


Talk Me Down

by lou_beatrix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Little Mix (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: ALSO AAAAA THERE'S A LINK TO A SPOTIFY PLAYLIST WITH ALL THE SONGS THAT ARE IN THE FIC, Agender Character, Also ... i kinda wrote zayn as having BPD cuz i have it but it wasn't super explicit, Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Bisexual Character, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gay Character, Genderfluid Character, Genderqueer Character, Louis-centric, M/M, Mild Transphobia, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Pansexual Character, Polyamory, Queer Character, Trans Character, also i dont think there are many trigger warnings like rly the only thing i can think of is, also there's a considerable amt of angst cuz im an emo bithc, and also discussion about, and yes the title is after the troye sivan song .. it's kind of a Mood(tm) for the fic, but every character is trans or nb and also not straight!!!, but they said i could do w/e i wanted w it so i made it emo ... sorry folks lskdjflk, everyone else are like very minor characters except harry who's like a Medium character, for those that need to know this in advance: there's a happy ending, last thing is the prompt was completely Not This, like in the context of family members, like one (1) comment that's very small, ok now ill just put the regular tags thanks for listening, so basically the reason there's 2 louis relationships is cuz louis & harry are polyamorous, so larry is a Thing but zouis is like. who the fic is Actually About, there's a list below of all the ~details, there's also .. not that much magic involved tbh like hogwarts is mostly the Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 06:26:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10803606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lou_beatrix/pseuds/lou_beatrix
Summary: Louis is just someone who has a lot of love to give. His polyamorous relationship with Harry is beautiful and perfect, and when Zayn transfers to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons in their 5th year, Louis finds himself drawn to him as well. But Zayn's difficult childhood brings up problems that maybe Louis can't fix, and maybe Zayn can't either.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thelouistiti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelouistiti/gifts).



> Ok so! Like I said in the tags up there, here's the list of all the characters genders & sexualities. Some of the details aren't relevant to the story but I kinda like mapping it out like this and having these be like Confirmed Canon By Me... so here it is :) 
> 
> Louis - nonbinary trans boy / bi / ace  
> Zayn - genderqueer / gay / ace  
> Harry - genderfluid / queer / aceflux  
> Niall - nonbinary / pan-aroflux / ace  
> Liam – demiboy / gay / gray-ace  
> Perrie - trans girl / lesbian / allosexual  
> Jade - agender / bi / ace  
> Jesy - demigirl / pan / aceflux  
> Leigh - enby / aro / pansexual
> 
> ALSO IMPORTANT NOTE: I did a Thing where like there are a few sections that switch to present tense whereas the rest of the story is written in past tense. It's not a mistake, I did that on purpose, so just so y'all know that's a Thing!!! I hope it like ... flows okay ... heck !!! 
> 
> Also this is my first fic exchange and the first fic over like 5k that I've posted and has gone past the rough draft stage so I'm excited :)) 
> 
> Here's a link to the spotify playlist I made that includes all the songs that are mentioned in the fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/22pb3emxzeaff5kxjxlynvaoa/playlist/5VSDVKgSzB9WYErhqxIgd5
> 
> And lastly thank you to my sweet friend Mel for beta'ing for me <33

****_Sat in the corner of the room_

_Everything's reminding me of you_

 

There it is. The sweater he'd been wearing when it happened. He'd taken it off at some point, tossed it on Louis' bedpost in a frenzied manner as the heat escalated in the room despite the freezing winter weather whistling outside the windows. But hours later, when it was all over, he'd left without it. And it’s still there. Louis hasn't moved it, or even touched it, in the three weeks since it happened. 

Tonight, he's going to move it. He really, truly is. He could throw it in the lost and found, or give it to a friend, or he could just fucking burn it. How satisfying it would be to just touch the tip of his wand to the black fuzzy fabric, say _Incendio_ , and watch the orange and blue flames spread and eat it up. It would feel symbolic; it would be cathartic. But Louis knows he isn't going to burn the sweater. He can’t. Because it would feel like it’s marking an end. If that sweater goes up in flames, it would have to mean Louis is ready to give up on him, to move on, to burn the bridge. And he isn't. He really, really isn’t. He's not ready to give up on Zayn. Not yet. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_And you made me lose my self control_

 

Louis’ breath hitched when he saw him. It was like in those muggle movies he and Harry had watched last summer—overdramatic, completely unnatural, and unrealistic. But it really happened. 

That day, he’d walked arm-in-arm into the classroom with Niall for Gryffindor-Ravenclaw mixed Charms. It was customary that they’d be partners so long as it wasn’t a Gryffindor-Hufflepuff class—then it was agreed among that Harry would pair up with Louis, of course. 

Louis and Niall sat at a table in the middle of the room. Niall had taught him that you never want to sit at the front, because then the professor will notice if you’re not there, but you don’t want to sit at the back, because that’s where all the certified slackers are. The middle is perfect, because it allows for a certain level of anonymity. 

Since it was the first day of class, Flitwick wanted to do attendance. After the first week, he generally stopped. He didn’t care all too much about who was there, just so long as he had _some_ students to teach to. Louis tended to zone out during attendance, waiting for his name at the end of the alphabet. He knew everyone, and he’d already seen everyone he cared about in the Great Hall the night before or in the dorms later. But about halfway through the alphabet, Louis’ attention was grabbed by Flitwick saying, “Well, we’ve got a new student on this roster, haven’t we? Everyone please welcome Zayn Malik, looks like he’s a transfer student. Tell me, Zayn, where’ve you transferred here from?” 

Someone sitting two rows ahead of Louis lifted his head up. “Oh, uh, I went to Beauxbatons.” 

“Very nice, Zayn, very nice. How did you like Beauxbatons?” 

Zayn shrugged. “It was fine, I suppose. It’s a good school.” 

“Naturally. And of course, I must ask, _parlez-vous français_?” Flitwick asked. 

“ _Oui, bien sûr,_ ” Zayn replied.

Louis wanted to get a better look at this Zayn person. All he could see was the back of his head. But he had a voice that was silky and soothing, and an accent not too different than Louis’; he must be a Northerner. Maybe he could use that as a conversation starter. Because Louis had already decided that he needed to befriend this person. He wasn’t really sure why he felt so strongly about it, but he decidedly did. 

“Lovely, lovely!” Flitwick said, clapping. “How do you like Hogwarts so far?” 

“I’ve only been here since last night but so far I really like it. Lots of history here, I’m excited to be here.” 

“Very true, Mr. Malik. I’m sure Professor Binns will be enthused to speak to you about the history.” The whole class broke out into laughter, except Zayn, who turned around to look at everyone, thinking he’d missed something. And that was when Louis saw his face, and his breath hitched, and the laughter simultaneously got deafening but also died out. All he saw was Zayn. Suddenly, his eyes locked on Louis’, full of confusion. Louis couldn’t tell if he was just mouthing it or if he said it out loud but it was drowned out by the rushing in Louis’ ears, but regardless he knew Zayn had asked him, “Why’s everyone laughing?”

Louis gathered himself best he could, and leaned forward towards Zayn who in turn leaned back towards him. “Professor Binns is a ghost, and talks in the most boring monotone ever. He’s never sounded ‘enthused’ once in his life. Suppose it’s funnier if you know him.” 

Zayn cracked a smile and got a twinkle in his eye, nodding. “Ah, okay. Thanks.” 

“Alright, enough everyone!” Flitwick shouted from atop his desk, wiping a few tears away from under his glasses. The laughter died down and the class got quiet again. “Anyways, welcome to Hogwarts, Zayn. Ravenclaw is lucky to have you, as is Hogwarts as a whole.” 

“Thanks very much, Professor,” he replied. Louis imagined he was giving that brilliant smile he’d seen just a moment before that was now etched into his brain. 

It was going to be a really fucking long period. 

Niall kept having to flick Louis’ shoulder to get him to pay attention. “Mate, what the fuck are you looking at?” He’d asked, snapping his fingers in front of Louis’ face around half way through the class. 

“The…what?” Louis responded, trying to draw his eyes back into focus and turning his head to face Niall, feeling like he was dragging it through a thick fog. He was almost dizzy from it. 

“Lou. Babe. Why are you so out of it?” Niall asked, grabbing Louis’ face and holding it still, squishing up his cheeks and lips in the process. 

“Nothing! No reason. Release me, Nelly!” He wrenched his way out of Niall’s grip and felt his head gravitating back towards Zayn. 

“Oh my _God_ … This is _just_ like the time you saw Har—” and then it clicked. “It’s the new kid, isn’t it? This is just like the time you first met Harry and couldn’t keep your eyes off them and almost fell into the fucking abyss when the staircase moved.” 

“What? No,” Louis said weakly, knowing it was futile because he could feel his focus being drawn back to Zayn. 

“You’re literally the worst liar in the world. Like, you’re really not even trying.” 

“I’m ignoring you, Niall,” Louis replied, poking his shoulder with his wand. 

“Oh my god, Lou, that’s exactly the problem…” 

Niall left Louis alone the rest of the period; he knew that Louis was in a trance and wouldn’t be pulled out any time soon. But when Charms was over and it was time to head to the Great Hall for lunch, he saw Louis’ glare get more and more intense, watching Zayn’s every move. He was registering how quickly he was putting his things in his satchel, if he was talking to anyone (he wasn’t), calculating how he could exit the classroom at the same time as Zayn without making it look planned. All Niall got was a muttered, “Sorry babe, I’ll see you at lunch, I have to do something really quick,” before Louis pushed past him. 

“Hey,” Louis said, breathless not from his two-stride walk from his desk to where Zayn was, but from the built up tension in his chest that had accumulated over the past hour. “I just wanted to say hi, cuz I know sometimes it can be hard to be the new kid. Well, probably more than sometimes, being new anywhere is like, inherently weird but—wow, I’m just fucking rambling, aren’t I? Let me start over… I’m Louis,” he finished, sticking his hand out, hoping Zayn didn’t notice how bright red his face most likely was, judging by the heat he could feel burning his cheeks and neck. 

Zayn came back with that bright smile from before, and when they made eye contact, followed by physical contact, Louis felt almost an electric shock. Zayn was even prettier close up, it was unreal. He looked almost ethereal. 

“I’m Zayn. Nice to meet you, Louis. Thanks for telling me what was going on earlier, I thought for a second that everyone was laughing at me and I was kind of freaking out,” Zayn giggled. And Louis almost blacked out, it was so fucking cute. 

“ _No,_ oh my god, not at all. That’s why it’s good to have someone to like, show you around here and stuff, ‘cuz we rarely get transfers, so we’re all in this little bubble where everyone knows everything about everyone so we just forget things like that aren’t common knowledge.” 

“Are you offering to show me around?” Zayn asked, and was that—flirtation, Louis detected? He was probably reading into it, like he always does. But _god_ did he want to be right this time. 

“Maybe,” Louis replied coyly. “If you’re willing to let me.” 

“I just might, then.” 

“Good. Cuz it’s lunch now and I have a feeling you’ve got no one to sit with?” 

“I’m gonna pretend I’m not offended by the implication that I’ve made absolutely no friends at all, but only because you’ve been so nice to me.” Zayn cracked that smile again. 

_That’s gotta be flirting_ , Louis thought. “Well, that and probably the fact that I’m right.” 

Zayn started laughing. “Yeah, fine, that too.” His laugh was infectious, and soon Louis was joining in. 

“You can sit with me and my friends. You’re a Ravenclaw, then?”   
“Yeah, what’re you?” 

“Gryffindor. But we usually sit at the Slytherin table, cuz that’s the house half of the group are in, but sometimes we switch it up and go to Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, but not as often since there’s less of us. But we never sit with the Ravenclaws, only because we haven’t got any in our friend group. You can be the first.” 

“How big is this friend group? Sounds like you’ve got half the school.”   
“No, there’s just eight of us. There’s Perrie, Jesy, Jade, and Leigh-Anne in Slytherin, then there’s me and Niall in Gryffindor, and Harry and Liam in Hufflepuff.” 

“Eight is a lot… you sure it won’t be too much if I join you all?” Zayn sounded a bit nervous, and Louis didn’t like that.

“No, no, don’t worry. We’re a bit rambunctious but we’re all nice, I promise.” Louis paused, heart thrumming a bit harder in preparation for what he was about to say. “I do just want to let you know though, Jade, Leigh, and Harry all use they/them pronouns, and Harry especially gets upset when people fuck up, so just try to be careful about it.” Louis hated this part—there was always the risk that any new person he met would be gross and transphobic, but he’d learned it’s best to get it out of the way and find out from the start if that’s the case. 

“Yeah, of course, totally not a problem. I used they/them for like a year back at my old school but I decided to switch back to he/him cuz it wasn’t catching on and it just didn’t feel comfortable enough for me to keep going with it, so yeah. I know the struggle.” 

Louis’ heart swelled twenty times the size; he couldn’t believe his luck. This incredibly gorgeous, nice, possibly-flirting-with-him person was also not cis. 

“You have no idea how relieved I am, to be honest,” Louis replied. He felt suddenly at ease with Zayn. The edge was almost gone and now everything was just rosy and hazy. He barely realized that they were almost to the Great Hall. “There’s not a singular cis person in our whole friend group so it probably would’ve been awkward if you were the odd one out.”   
“Are you serious?! That’s literally a dream come true, what the fuck…I know like two other trans or nonbinary people from Beauxbatons but that was it, and it was hell being one of like, three.”

“Well, you’re in luck, babe, cuz we’re all queer as fuck.” Louis realized too late that he’d just called Zayn ‘babe,’ but if he could tell anything by the way Zayn ducked his head just a touch, he thought it was a good subconscious decision. 

The two of them joined the stream of students heading into the Great Hall for lunch, and brushed shoulders in the crowd. Louis, feeling bold and a little bit reckless from how well their conversation was going, offered his hand out to Zayn and said, “If you want, I can get us through here quicker.” It was a lie, nothing about holding Louis’ hand would make them get through the crowd faster, but he was hoping Zayn wouldn’t question it. 

He took Louis’ hand, and feeling empowered by his touch and trust, Louis began elbowing and shouldering his way through the crowd with Zayn in tow. When they finally passed the bottleneck of the entrance, the crowd was mostly dispersed and students were at their tables already, and there was truly no need for the two of them to be holding hands anymore. But neither of them let go. Louis heart was beating rapidly, and he was praying that his palms wouldn’t start sweating. He led them towards the Slytherin table, and caught sight of the group from afar. Perrie was the first one to acknowledge him—well, technically it was Niall, who nudged her arm dramatically and nodded towards Louis and Zayn—and she immediately raised her eyebrows at him. Louis felt his face flush and hoped none of them would be weird about it, but knowing Perrie and Jesy, he had almost no doubt that they would definitely make it embarrassing for him. As embarrassing as possible, most likely. 

“There he is, our strapping young lad, with a handsome someone-new, I see,” Perrie said dramatically in her favorite fake-posh accent. 

Louis felt his face flush deeper and could’ve sworn he felt Zayn squeeze his hand lightly, but he may have imagined it. “Shut up, Pez. Everyone, this is Zayn, he just transferred here from Beauxbatons. So be nice, you fucking heathens.” 

Zayn dropped Louis hand to wave at everyone, and Louis tried to convince himself the loss of touch didn’t make his heart drop just a bit. 

“Hey,” Zayn said. “Thanks for letting me sit with you all. I don’t really know anyone yet and Louis offered, I hope that’s okay.” 

“Of course, we love making new friends,” Niall replied, winking at Louis. He already felt as red as a fucking tomato, so he couldn’t even fathom what shade of burgundy he’d turned at this point. 

“ANYWAYS,” Louis practically shouted, making Harry jump in their seat a bit, “Hazza, scoot over so I can sit next to you, and Zayn, you can sit on my other side.” 

Harry pushed their plate to the right a few inches and moved their body to follow, and as Louis sat down next to them, they leaned up to whisper in his ear, “Looks like I’ve got a bit of competition, huh, babe?” The tone was joking but there was a bite to it. 

“We’ll talk later,” Louis whispered back, shoving down the prickle it had sent up his spine, before turning back to Zayn. “Shall we go around and do names and pronouns then?” 

Jade raised their eyebrows at Louis from across the table, who nodded back at them reassuringly. Louis started off the circle, and they went around until everyone had been introduced to Zayn. 

Lunch went much better than Louis had expected it to; he’d expected Perrie, Jesy, and Niall in particular to be relentless with their teasing, but surprisingly, they weren’t. Zayn got on with everyone extremely well. He was fairly quiet, but everyone was eager to include him in the conversation and fill him in on backstories that were relevant. The conversation never lulled or dragged. 

“Should we go down to the lake after classes today? I’ve already got homework but I’m not gonna do shit on the first day of school,” Jesy said as lunch was ending. “Or probably all week, let’s be honest.” 

“You can be a slacker all you want, Jesminda, _I’m_ gonna go to the library during my free period right now so I don’t have to stress about my coursework while we’re at Hogsmeade this weekend,” Liam retorted, finishing his statement with an emphatic swig of pumpkin juice. 

“Liam, darling, when have I _ever_ stressed about coursework?” 

“True,” Jade chimed in. 

“Whatever, Jess, don’t come crying to me when you fail all your O.W.L.S.,” Liam replied. 

“I don’t think I ever have or ever will shed a singular tear over schoolwork or grades. Why would I give one flying fuck about school when I could just…Not?” Jesy said. 

“I mean, you’ll probably start giving multiple flying fucks when you graduate and have no job offers…” Liam muttered. 

“Oi!” Leigh-Anne shouted, slapping Liam’s bum as she walked behind him on her way out of the Great Hall to her next class. “Pull the stick outta your ass! You two have been at this for _years_ , let it go!” 

“Hey!” Liam said, swatting Leigh away. “Whatever, fine, fine!” 

“Don’t worry, love,” Jesy said, reaching across the table to pinch Liam’s cheek. “We have the next three years to keep fighting about it, better save some energy.” 

“What is with you two _assaulting_ me today!” Liam grumbled, rubbing his cheek where it had gone red from Jesy’s pinching. “On that note, I’m off to the fucking library. Zayn, it was lovely to meet you, and I’m sure I’ll see you again soon. And I’d like to apologize for the behavior of these absolute _monsters_ we’ve put you in contact with,” Liam said, flipping off Jesy with one hand and Leigh with the other. 

Zayn giggled, making Louis’ heart flutter again. “It was nice to meet you too, Liam, and yeah, I’ll see you around.” 

As soon as Liam had turned his back and started walking out, Jesy pulled a face at him, and without missing a beat or turning his head, Liam shouted back, “Fuck off, Jessica Nelson!” and kept walking. 

“How did he do that?” Zayn asked Louis, leaning in close to almost whisper it. Louis’ breath caught in his throat a bit and he had to cough lightly before responding. 

“Years of tormenting each other,” he replied. 

“I’ve gotta head to class too,” Harry said, standing up and grabbing their bag off the seat next to them. They ran their fingers through the hair behind Louis’ ear and coaxed his head up towards them. “Kiss?” they asked, bending down to kiss Louis, who obliged. After pulling away, they smiled fondly at him, booped his nose, and hitched their bag over their shoulder. 

“Zayn,” they said, gripping a hand with varnished nails on his shoulder as they walked behind him. “It was a pleasure to meet you, and I’ll see you again soon, I hope?” There was a glimmer of something almost like a challenge in what Zayn suddenly realized were strikingly green eyes that were staring down at him. 

Zayn swallowed a lump that had risen in his throat and nodded. “Same to you, Harry. Have a good class.” 

Harry’s eyes softened a bit and smiled at him, patting his shoulder twice before turning their attention from him and back to Louis, blowing him a kiss, followed by a “See you later, love!” 

Zayn cleared his throat, almost dramatically. Perrie locked eyes with Louis from across the table, then turned to Jade and theatrically began speaking. “So _Jade…_ ” 

_Why does she always have to be so fucking obvious,_ Louis thought. 

“Is, uh…” Zayn started. “Are you and Harry, like, dating?” 

Louis’ chest constricted a bit. “Oh, um…Yeah.” He could’ve _sworn_ he saw Zayn’s face fall. “But we’re polyamorous,” Louis tacked on quickly. 

“Oh?” Zayn asked, perking his head back up and looking straight at Louis now. 

“Yeah,” Louis nodded. “Right now it’s just the two of us but, yeah, we’re both open to like, dating other people as well, and stuff.”

“Oh, cool.” Zayn bobbed his head a few times. “Cool.” 

Suddenly Louis felt a foot kick his under the table, and his head jerked up. Perrie was wiggling her eyebrows at him, and of course, to his luck, his face flushed again. 

“Well, uh, I think I have to get to class,” Zayn said, beginning to stand up. 

“Oh, what do you have now?” Louis asked, perhaps a bit too eagerly. 

“Uh…” Zayn pulled a printed schedule out of his jeans pocket, and scanned it. “I think…Potions?” 

“That’s what I have too! I’ll show you how to get there, the dungeons are an absolute _nightmare_.” 

“Lou?” Jade said to get his attention, which was now entirely taken up by Zayn. “Meet us down by our tree after class, yeah?” 

“’Course, love,” Louis smiled at them, mouthing a quick _thank you_ to them for not drawing attention to him and Zayn the way the others had. He could always count on Jade like that. They nodded in return, knowing what it was for, and smiled softly. 

“Well, we’d best be off, then,” Perrie said, standing up and grabbing her bag. “Jesminda, will you redo my hair in class? I woke up late this morning and did an _awful_ plait and I know how well you do a French braid.” 

“It’s not that bad, Pez,” Jesy replied, picking up Perrie’s hair and inspecting the braid. “But you’re right, I do a mean French braid. Plus it’ll give me something to do in class. I can’t believe we have to take fucking _Runes…_ like, what the fuck do I need to know runes for?” 

Jade sighed. “You never stop complaining, Jesy, don’t you get tired?” 

“Nope. Spite fuels me.” Jesy replied. “Anyways, we’ll see you two lo—” She was cut off by Jade whacking the back of her head. “What the hell’d you do that for?” she screeched. 

“You know why. Keep it moving,” Jade replied, grinding up behind Jesy to make her start walking. 

Louis knew Jesy well enough to know that she was about to call Zayn and Louis ‘lovebirds’ and made a mental note to give Jade a thousand kisses later for making Jesy shut the hell up. 

“Bye, darlings,” Louis called, waving them off. 

Once they were out of earshot, Zayn said, “Your friends are really great.” 

Louis just laughed. “We’re a lot, I know. The girls—Pez and Jesy, are absolute menaces in particular. They’re perfect Slytherins, always up to _something_ and making everyone suffer for it. Leigh can get a bit mischievous too, and to be honest so can Jade, but they’re the tamest of the crew. At least on a regular basis. When they’ve had a bit of Firewhiskey, not as calm…” Louis chuckled. “And Liam’s always got a stick up his ass, just like Leigh said, doesn’t know how to fucking relax. Although we’ve corrupted him a bit over the years. And Niall is a fucking goofball, just wait ’til you see him when we’re out by the lake later, he gets _wild_ when he has space to run around—”

“Oh, I didn’t realize I was invited to that,” Zayn said. 

“To what? The lake?” 

Zayn nodded. 

“What, you think we’d talk about it in front of you and then not invite you? What kind of people d’you think we are, Zayn?” Louis nudged into his shoulder as they walked next to each other. 

Zayn smiled. “I dunno! I guess it’s just like … we just met and those are like, your best friends. I didn’t think you’d want me there.” 

“Don’t be silly, we all really like you. I really like you.” Louis honestly wanted to punch himself in the face for actually saying that out loud, because it felt so obvious. But then Zayn smiled that gorgeous, lopsided smile of his and Louis’ heart snapped in half for the millionth time that day. 

 

***

 

“So, tell me about you and Harry,” Zayn asked—quite boldly, in Louis’ opinion—as the two of them walked down towards the lake after Potions. 

“Oh, uh…” Louis felt like asking _are you sure?_ but took it back last second. That would be way too obvious. To acknowledge that they were both skirting an issue would bring it out into the open, and it was too early for that. “Like, what sort of stuff?” 

“I dunno,” Zayn shrugged. “How’d you two meet?” 

Louis smiled fondly. “It was actually really pathetic, honestly. At least on my part. Niall, Jesy, and I were walking around the corridors looking for our classroom—or, rather, Niall and I were looking for a classroom and Jess was just there bumming off—and I saw Harry from across the corridor. Like, the three of us were going up the stairs and Harry was up on the next floor, and I just. I dunno, I kinda just started staring at them? I was like … in shock. I mean, you’ve seen them. They’re beautiful. Just really breathtaking, y’know? And it was this weird, almost like, poetic moment, where time kind of slowed down and I guess I’d kept walking up the stairs, but I wasn’t paying attention, and I really almost died. Like, the staircase started moving the way they do, and I really just almost descended into the fucking void, but Niall and Jesy grabbed me really quick and yanked me to the platform. And then I was like, kind of collapsed on the ground a bit ‘cuz they’d just barely gotten me on the ground, and my shoes had made this awfully loud slapping noise on the granite or whatever the fuck the floors are made of, so Harry looked over and saw me on the ground and came rushing over. They were like ‘shit are you okay? What happened’ and I was just fucking breathless, like couldn’t even respond. Niall and Jesy just burst out laughing, poor Harry was _so_ confused. I was mumbling like, ‘I…uh…tripped…’ It was so fucking pathetic. And then after that every time Harry and I saw each other around they’d ask if I’d managed to stay upright all day. _Everybody_ knew, it was literally the most pathetic thing. Like, the whole group knew from the second I saw them that I had a massive crush on them. And then, I dunno, after a few weeks of obsessing I gave in and told them I liked them and somehow I got lucky enough that they liked me too, so we’ve been dating for like a year now.” 

Zayn had a lot of emotions showing on his face. He was looking down at the grass as they walked, but there was a soft smile on his face. But Louis could also see a little bit of something dim in his eyes. Maybe hurt. Maybe jealousy. Maybe a little bit of both. Or maybe he was just being cruelly hopeful, and maybe he needed to get his brain to shut the fuck up. 

“That’s really adorable, Louis,” was all he said. But he kept smiling at the ground. Louis wasn’t sure what it meant, nor how to respond. 

He settled for a simple “Thanks,” and left it there. He’d wanted to ask Zayn what he was thinking, why he was smiling but didn’t look happy. But it had literally been a few hours since they’d met, so it would just be weird. Louis always felt like he needed to know everything about someone as soon as he decided he liked them, but he was learning to slow down. It scared people away, and it never worked out in his favor. So he left it at thanks and that was it. 

Zayn followed suit and dropped the subject, but not in a defeated way. 

The two walked in silence across the grassy lawn down to the lake, but surprisingly the silence wasn’t awkward or heavy. It was serene and calm as they both took in the sounds and sights surrounding them. Zayn more so than Louis; Louis realized Zayn had never seen this part of the grounds before, it being his first day. The sun was contentedly warm, bathing them comfortably in a pre-dusk light. The grass felt lush and healthy beneath their feet (they’d both taken off their shoes partway through the walk and were dangling them from crooked fingertips). There was a very soft, delicate breeze rustling through every so often, tousling their hair and kissing their skin sweetly and gently. There were students everywhere—some with schoolbooks out already, sprawled on the grass on their stomachs as they read or took notes. Others were tossing a ball around (Louis thought it was called something silly like sportsball? Feetball? Maybe it was football, but wasn’t that with a white ball that you kick, not this brown one they were throwing? This game wasn’t only a muggle game, but also American, so he didn’t bother keeping track). There was talking, shouting, and music playing to fill the space. 

“Louis—” Zayn started suddenly, but was promptly interrupted by that brown ball hitting Louis directly in the stomach, causing him to double over. 

“OOF!” he wheezed. He looked up and saw a ginger-haired, long-faced kid (Oliver? Olly? Something stupid like that) laughing hysterically, standing about 10 meters away. He was notoriously homophobic and transphobic, and Louis had a hard time believing that him being hit with the ball was an accident. 

“Keep your fucking sportsball to your damn self, you carrot-headed buffoon!” Louis screamed, kicking the ball with all his might. It bounced awkwardly several yards away. It was heavier than he expected. 

“Football,” Zayn said. 

“What?” Louis asked, still struggling to catch his breath. That ball was really fucking heavy. 

“It’s football. It’s an American muggle sp—” Zayn was cut off by the football kid shouting at Louis. 

“Oi, Tomlinson! This your new boyfriend?” he called out, laughing meanwhile. “What happened to Harry? Too girly for you?” 

And suddenly Louis was seeing red. Because this random fucking kid just made a transphobic dig at Harry, and Louis wanted to fucking _murder_ him. So fucking what if Harry’s genderfluid, and so fucking what if they painted their nails or wore makeup or had long hair and so _fucking what_ if they _were_ feminine? How dare this douchebag just misgender them like that, calling them his boyfriend when he doesn’t know shit about either of them and before he could stop himself he was opening his mouth and—

“YOU LEAVE HARRY THE FUCK OUT OF THIS. KEEP HARRY’S NAME OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!” he screeched, voice immediately going both squeaky and raspy. 

But the kid just kept laughing. All he heard was ringing in his ears, and simultaneously a deafening hush. He noted that he was shaking, vibrating even, but he didn’t know how to make it stop. And then he felt arms around him. Zayn’s? No, this skin was paler. Harry. 

“Harry,” Louis breathed, gripping tightly to their left wrist, which was now wrapped around his waist. 

“I’m here, Lou. What’s going on? I just heard you screaming from all the way up the hill. And I thought I heard you say my name. Are you hurt?” Harry asked, concern constricting their slow, deep voice in a way that Louis hated hearing. They spun him around to face them, and swept Louis’ fringe out of his now dilated eyes. 

“He just…he fucking…” Louis said disjointedly. He didn’t want to tell Harry what that kid had said. Didn’t want him to know that people were talking about them and their gender and their appearance and their relationship with Louis and—he just didn’t want Harry to know people were talking about them, period. 

“Who, love? Not Zayn, right?” Harry asked suspiciously, stealing a glance behind them at Zayn, who was standing off to the side, toeing at the grass, pretending not to hear but. Louis saw his shoulders fall. His whole demeanor, actually. He made a mental note to talk to Harry about this Zayn thing. Not now, not while he was right there, but ASAP. 

“No, of course not Zayn. That fucking ginger-haired cunt. What the fuck is his fucking name again? Probably something fucking stupid and ugly…” Louis muttered. He was still quivering, but Harry’s presence made it less violent and less scary. He felt less out of control in Harry’s arms. 

Harry followed the trajectory of the thumb Louis had jerked at the kid. When they located him, their piercing green eyes narrowed. 

“Oli. That’s his name. Yeah, he—” Harry froze mid-sentence, gaze going cold. They swallowed thickly and continued. “He’s fucking scum. Him and that Rodgers kid. Calvin, or summat. But they’re not worth our time, Lou. Ignore them. Let’s go down and meet the others, yeah?” 

Louis swallowed the emotion that had built up in his throat. He knew Harry was right. Harry was always right about this shit. But _god_ he wanted to go up to that piece of shit and just…he didn’t know what. He wished that kid were fucking dead. He wished he never had to feel this angry, or scared, or any of this. But this was how we was, always. Emotions jumping from 0 to 100 at the drop of a hat. Sometimes he was completely numb but as soon as he started feeling something it was like he was feeling it for the first time. It felt like it would never end. It was unbearable. But he was glad Harry was there. And now they could all go down to the lake and he could try to forget about this, and he could talk to Zayn a bit more, and… Wait. Louis looked around. Suddenly he couldn’t see Zayn. He’d been there literally a minute ago, but now he was gone. 

Louis stepped away from Harry, but tracing his hand down Harry’s wrist to hold their hand instead. “Zayn?” he called, spinning around, looking for him. He truly was nowhere to be found. When did he leave? He couldn’t have left _that_ long ago if Harry had just looked back at him a minute ago. 

“I think he left, love,” Harry said softly, squeezing Louis’ hand once. 

“Oh,” Louis said, voice hollow and deflated. 

Harry stifled a sigh. “It’s okay, babe, you’ll see him tomorrow, won’t you? Classes and all that?” 

Louis continued to stare off up the hill, still scanning the expanse for caramel skin, black hair, and navy blue shoulder bag, but to no avail. He felt Harry’s hand gently nudge his face back towards them, and he was greeted by their kind but tired eyes. 

“It’ll be okay, I promise. Do you want to talk about this? I hate seeing you this way,” Harry said. They tried to ignore the knot forming in their stomach. 

Louis stole a glance behind them one more time as the two of them began walking down the hill again. “I don’t know, Hazza. I just, like… I don’t know. I don’t want to like, make you uncomfortable or something, and I know I just met him, but I dunno. I just feel this pull? Like from the moment I saw him, I had this _feeling_.” 

Harry didn’t want to say the words they were about to say, but they swallowed thickly again and released the sigh they were holding in. “Kind of like when you saw me?” they asked. 

Louis felt the emotion dripping from Harry’s words, and it stung a little bit. But their number one policy was honesty, always. “Yeah,” he replied, almost imperceptibly quietly. 

But Harry heard it. They nodded, looking down at the grass. 

“I’m sorry, Haz—” Louis started, immediately regretting this conversation. 

“No,” Harry interrupted. “There’s no reason to be sorry. This is what we agreed our relationship would be, we never agreed to be monogamous and I know I would want you to give me space to explore other relationships if it were me.” Harry took a sharp inhale, holding Louis’ hand just a little bit tighter. “But I’m not gonna lie, it’s a little hard to hear. But that’s not your problem, it’s mine. You’re not doing anything wrong. This is just the first time, and after a year of it being just us, I’d gotten, like, comfortable with it being that way.. But that doesn’t mean—” Harry paused again. “It doesn’t mean that it has to change anything between us. It doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t choose being with you in every universe, every time. Because I would. You know I would, no matter what. And if pursuing something with Zayn will make you happy, then I support you, one hundred percent. Your happiness is the most important thing to me. You know that.” 

“And yours is mine,” Louis replied. “But your own happiness has to be tied with mine if you _insist_ on mine being first.”

“I mean, I guess it is, but you’re my number one, Louis. Nothing makes me happier than seeing you smile. Is that so wrong?” Harry asked. 

He met Harry’s searching eyes, and smiled. Because he was so, so in love with this person. This beautiful, amazing person who poured every ounce of love they had into Louis. 

Harry’s whole face softened instantaneously. “Just like that,” they said. “That’s all I want.” 

Louis leaned in to kiss them, smiling against their mouth. “I love you,” he murmured into Harry’s lips. 

“I love you too,” Harry replied, smiling wider with every passing moment. 

And somewhere up the hill, Zayn sat with his back to a tree trunk, facing away from the lake, away from Louis, away from Harry. Alone. 

 

***

 

“Nialler, I’m gonna go ahead. I wanna get to Charms early today,” Louis said, rolling up the sleeves of his uniform. It was too fucking hot to be wearing uniforms. He needed something more akin to swim trunks. 

“What for?” Niall asked from his position flopped down on his bed. 

“I just have a thing to do. Before class. Don’t worry about it,” Louis said shortly, snatching his bag up and hitching it over his shoulder. 

Niall was too tired to press the matter. “Alright, whatever, I’ll see you there.” 

Louis walked past Niall on his way out and booped him on the nose, hoping it would serve as a silent apology for being curt. The thing is, he really had to get to Charms early, because he needed to intercept Zayn. Louis hadn’t seen him since he’d disappeared on the hill yesterday, and he needed to know why he’d left. 

He arrived to the classroom seven minutes early, and stood outside the door with his back to the cold, stone wall, waiting for Zayn to arrive. After about two minutes, students started trickling in. Another two minutes passed, and most of the class had arrived by now (except Niall, who Louis was now afraid had fallen asleep without someone to drag him to class), but not Zayn. It was one minute til class began, and Zayn still hadn’t shown up, and Louis exasperatedly bent to pick his bag up off the ground. But when he looked back up, there he was. Both of them looked a bit startled to see one another. 

“Zayn, I was looking for you,” Louis jumped in immediately. “I wanted to talk to you.” 

Zayn flushed almost instantaneously. “Oh, uh, why?” 

“Gentlemen, will you be joining us inside today, or were you planning to spend all period in the hallway?” Flitwick asked impatiently from his perch on top of his desk. 

“Wait for me after class?” Louis asked, reluctantly sliding past the door and inside. 

Zayn just nodded in response. 

It was another fucking unbearable period. This definitely was a record for how early in the year Louis wanted to rip his hair out sitting in class. The second day was pretty pathetic. 

Finally, Flitwick was dismissing them, and Louis snatched up his bag and immediately went to go stand next to the door. He didn’t want to hover over Zayn while he packed his things up, but he wanted to make sure he caught him. After a frustratingly long two minutes, Louis finally saw Zayn come round the doorframe and gently touched his elbow. 

“Hey,” he said. “Have a minute?” 

Zayn’s eyes looked darker than they did yesterday, but he nodded all the same. They started walking. 

“I was just wondering why you left, yesterday. You were there one minute and then all of the sudden I turned around and you weren’t and I just wanted to know why.” 

“Oh.” Zayn’s step faltered for just a moment, but then he kept walking. “I, um. It didn’t feel right for me to be there. That was like…a _thing_ between you and Harry and I didn’t feel right about it, I dunno. Seeing as we’ve just met, and all. It seemed really personal, and I didn’t want to, like, intrude. So I left.” 

“Oh, yeah, okay,” Louis found himself saying. “I get that. But like, you definitely didn’t have to. Neither of us were uncomfortable at all. Promise.” 

Zayn just kept looking down at his feet. 

“The rest of the group was sad you weren’t there,” Louis added. 

“Really?” Zayn asked, looking up now. 

Louis nodded, letting a smile creep across his face. “Yeah. They really liked you, Zayn. You should sit with us at lunch again. If you want, that is.” 

Zayn was smiling now. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” 

Louis beamed at him, feeling butterflies stirring in his chest. Just a few. Only a couple beats of their wings, but beats nonetheless. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

_We're not, no we're not friends, nor have we ever been._

_We just try to keep those secrets in a lie,_

_And if they find out, will it all go wrong?_

_And Heaven knows, no one wants it to_

 

Zayn started sitting with Louis and his friends every day at lunch, and sometimes at dinner, too. He wanted to try to get to know some people in his own house, so he sat with other Ravenclaws at least one meal per day, and almost always went back to the Ravenclaw dormitory in the evening. Truthfully, he didn’t really want to, but he didn’t want to get pulled too fast into Louis’ friend group. Well, more specifically, into Louis. 

Because, Zayn noticed quite quickly, Louis was a whirlwind. He was a force of nature all his own. He commanded a room without even trying. He could make any and everyone laugh at almost any moment. He was always the source of life and light in any situation. It was so, so easy to get swept up, pulled into the eye of the storm, and get completely lost in the charming, boisterous creature that is Louis Tomlinson. 

But every time he felt that magnetic pull, every time he felt the urge to touch Louis’ arm as he laughed at one of his jokes, or grab his hand as they were walking, or sometimes when he felt himself staring at Louis’ lips just a little bit too long—he had to step back. He could feel himself standing on the edge of _something_ , something a little too foreign and frightening, but simultaneously enthralling so that it kept him riveted, poised on the very edge. But he always stopped himself from taking the final step and letting himself fall. 

So, he kept his distance. Those first few days when they’d met were messy, Zayn feeling like he’d spilled his feelings all over the fucking place like a child spilling a glass of milk. But he’d cleaned it up now, and he was much more composed, with a steadier hand. 

But every so often he heard a devil on his shoulder whispering in his ear to take the plunge. Give in. Let himself be pulled in by Louis. By this ball of light with the biggest heart and the brightest smile. But those were his moments of weakness, when he convinced himself, foolishly, that Louis felt it too. When he was sat alone in his rooms, far away from Louis, he was able to let himself get lost in the fantasy that Louis could feel the same way about him. And sometimes he got glimpses of it, glimmers of hope that had him wanting to jump off the astronomy tower. Because those first few days, he’d felt the pull, and had felt himself being pulled back. But as soon as Zayn stepped away, so did Louis. So maybe it was just that first week of school affect, where you meet someone on the first day thinking they’ll be your best friend forever, but by mid semester you never talk anymore. But. No. It didn’t feel like that. He knew it didn’t. But he didn’t know what it _did_ feel like either. He so, so desperately wanted to believe that the moments when it was just the two of them, that Louis felt it too. In those soft moments when Zayn would say something that Louis had coaxed out of him—not with his words, just with his energy, just with that magnetic _something_ that Zayn could almost see vibrating and pulsing and glowing in Louis’ core at all times—and Louis would listen so, so intently. This loud boy would get so quiet for Zayn, and it felt tender and emotional and intimate. And he just didn’t fucking know. He had no fucking clue whether Louis felt it or not, but he was too scared to ask. Because he was worried that if he took the chance on Louis that he’d be wrong, and it would make things weird as it inevitably always does, and then he’d slowly be exiled from the friend group, and he’d have no one. Just like at Beauxbatons. And he’d wanted a fresh start. He needed to give himself that opportunity, he’d promised himself he would. 

So he kept his mouth shut and he smiled and laughed along with everyone else. Maybe he smiled a bit too wide, laughed a bit too hard, stared a bit too long. But nobody else had to know about those moments where all he saw and felt was LouisLouisLouisLouisLouis. Nobody had to know.

 

*** 

 

_Love is out there waiting somewhere_

_You just have to go and find it_

 

Louis didn’t know what happened, really. After he’d talked to Zayn on the second day of classes, he’d thought everything would be fine. And for a few days, yeah, it was. But then, there was a shift. It happened maybe a week into term. While before Zayn and Louis had been fairly touchy and giggly and just _connecting_ in a way that felt so genuine and authentic, now there were only moments of that from time to time. Everything felt more stiff, and forced. Like Zayn was uncomfortable. And Louis absolutely hated it. He’d thought they were making progress. There were times when it was just the two of them, and he was able to talk with Zayn in a way he wasn’t when it was all of them in the group. It wasn’t that Zayn was particularly quiet or shy, but he often got drowned out by the incessant shouting and laughing and general chaos between the eight of them. But Louis always made a point to ask Zayn to repeat himself if he’d been talked over, making sure he was heard. And he’d always ask Zayn to hang out with them, or he’d ask him to come to the library with him, and they’d walk to classes together (they had four courses together, somehow). And for that first week, it was almost enchanting. Louis felt like there was legitimately something there, and that Zayn could feel it too. 

And then. Well. Zayn pulled back. Just like that. And it made Louis’ heart drop every single time Zayn responded almost coldly to one of Louis’ jokes, or declined to sit with everyone at dinner, opting to sit at the Ravenclaw table instead, or chose to go back to his rooms to do homework instead of going to the library or to one of the other houses’ common rooms to study with the whole group. He just didn’t fucking get it. It felt like a switch had been flicked out of nowhere. And he started wondering if Zayn just continued to hang out with him and everyone else out of necessity or obligation, because he felt like he _had_ to. Which of course he didn’t. If he didn’t want to hang out with them, he could just say so and go on with his life. Sure Louis would be upset but he’d move on, and it’d be okay eventually. 

But it didn’t feel like that was the case. Because sometimes when Louis got time alone with Zayn—when the others were busy or if they had coursework to do for a class only they were in—he’d ask Zayn some questions about his life, about him, and Zayn would answer. Honestly and candidly, with almost minimal hesitation. Sure, there was trepidation in his voice, and he would get fidgety, but Louis _always_ prefaced by saying, “you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to or aren’t comfortable,” or something along those lines. Because he never wanted Zayn to feel like he was being forced to say or do anything, and he wanted to make sure Zayn felt empowered to say no whenever and however often he wanted or needed to. But Zayn never said no. He’d get quiet for a moment, maybe gathering his thoughts, or mustering up the courage or confidence, but then he’d say it. 

He told Louis about his parents and how they divorced when he was 10. And how as the oldest child he’d ended up being the messenger between his parents, traveling back and forth from France to England to switch off seeing his mum or his dad, and barely getting to see his sisters, and even having to switch back and forth between living in a magical household (his mum’s) to a muggle household (his dad’s). And how when he told his mum he wanted to transfer to Hogwarts she refused to talk to him for a week because she thought he was choosing his dad over her. When that wasn’t the case at all, he just didn’t want to live abroad anymore, didn’t want to be speaking a language all the time that didn’t come naturally to him, things like that. And Louis listened, completely silent, looking at Zayn intently as he spoke, even if Zayn was looking down or away. So that when his gaze did come back to center, he saw that Louis was still there, paying rapt attention, not wavering for a moment. And it was times like those that had Louis so fucking confused because why would Zayn let Louis in like this if he didn’t want to be around him? If he didn’t like him? Even just as a friend? It didn’t make sense and it had him obsessing and stressing and he hated it so, so much. 

“Louis, babe,” Harry said one day about a month into term. Louis was laying on the couch in the Gryffindor common room with his head in Harry’s lap, and they were playing with his hair. “I think you should just talk to him. You’re so distracted all the time from this. It’s not good for you.”

“But what would I even say, Harry? I don’t even know what’s going on so I don’t know what I would even say to him,” Louis pouted. 

“Well, you could just say how you feel. It doesn’t have to be eloquent, it doesn’t have to be perfect, it can be messy if it has to. But I think you should say something.” 

“I don’t really know how I feel, is the problem. I dunno. With you, it was easy, it was straightforward. But with Zayn…I feel like he’s pushing me away but letting me in at the same time and I don’t know which one he wants.” 

“There, that’s a good start. Ask him about that.” 

Louis sighed. He supposed Harry was right. He couldn’t keep going on like this. But he didn’t want to fuck everything up by saying something. Which wasn’t usually like him. Most of the time, he preferred to be honest and just Say Things. He tended to be pretty impulsive. Which wasn’t always for the best, but that’s just how he always was. But for some reason, this time, it was different. He was scared and anxious and it made his skin crawl. 

“I’m—yeah. Okay. Yeah.” 

“Yeah? Really?” Harry asked incredulously. 

Louis nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re always right. I hate it, but you’re right,” Louis giggled into Harry’s leg. Harry chuckled and continued to play with Louis’ soft, feathery hair. 

 

***

 

_See this heart won't settle down_

_Like a child running scared from a clown_

_I'm terrified of what you do_

_My stomach screams just when I look at you_

 

Louis and Zayn were walking through the courtyard before dinner one evening in early October, as was fairly customary for them. They went from Transfiguration to dinner, and sometimes that’s where Zayn would separate and go sit with the Ravenclaws. But this whole thing with Zayn had been eating Louis up for over a month now, and he was tired. He just needed to say something. He’d talked to everyone in the group, asking for advice. Liam had sat with him for a while in the Hufflepuff common room, weighing the pros and cons on a proper written out list (that Louis made him burn afterwards). Perrie and Leigh had sat and talked with him in the library a few days ago, playing with his hair as they gave him advice and let him go on and on about the angle of Zayn’s cheekbones and the flutter of his eyelashes. Niall had listened as the two of them laid in their adjacent four poster beds last night, Louis once again unable to sleep. Jade and Jesy had talked with Louis while Jesy painted his nails and Jade had been curled up next to him, homework long forgotten as soon as Louis had almost burst into tears at the mention of Zayn’s name. 

“Do you wanna sit with us at dinner tonight?” Louis asked Zayn suddenly, breaking through the silence that for the first time in weeks, weighed heavily in between them. 

“Oh, uh—” Zayn started. “I was gonna sit at my house table tonight, I think.” 

Louis’ heart fell through his body all the way down to the goddamn ground, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t just leave it there. “Will you meet me after dinner then? Maybe we could go out on the hill, or to the astronomy tower, or just the Gryffindor common room. Anywhere is fine, as long is it can just be us.” 

“Um, is everything okay, Louis?” Zayn asked, his voice wavering. 

“It’s fine,” Louis lied through an equally unstable voice. “I just wanna talk to you, is all, and I wanna do it alone. Can we do that?” 

“You don’t wanna do it now?” Zayn asked. 

“No, no, I don’t want us to miss dinner. It’s fine, Zayn, I promise. I’d really rather go to dinner and then meet you after. Can you please just promise you’ll wait for me? I’ll even come over to your table and like, pick you up, or whatever. Just please don’t leave without me.” Louis knew the desperation was bleeding through his voice but he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there, coating his entire body. 

Zayn sounded really nervous now. “Um. Okay. Yeah.” He paused. “Are you sure everything’s alright? You sound…frantic.” 

“Please, Zayn, let’s just wait, yeah?” Louis stopped walking for a moment, and Zayn stopped with him. “Let’s talk about something else for right now. How’s your Arithmancy work going? I know you were having trouble with it the other day.” 

“Oh, it was, uh, fine, I guess. Someone in my house is really good at it and helped me out with my homework last night, so that was, um. Helpful.” Zayn stumbled through his words, barely able to think enough to get a full sentence out. He wasn’t even sure if he _had_ gotten the sentence out. 

They were nearing the entrance to the Great Hall. Louis wasn’t even listening to Zayn anymore, just fidgeting with anything and everything he could get his hands on. As they got to the archway, Louis said, “I’ll meet you right here in 45 minutes, is that good? Is that enough time for dinner and stuff? I don’t wanna rush you. I just want to have a concrete plan.” 

“Louis, I’m not gonna leave without you. I’ll wait for you.” Zayn’s heart felt like it was going to grow a pair of wings and fly the fuck away. Rather, it already felt like the wings were thrashing and banging against the walls of his rib cage, and it would emerge at any second. But he needed to be soft with Louis right now. He’d never seen him so…unconfident, unsure of himself. It was jarring. 

The fear creased into Louis’ face eased a bit at that. He nodded. “Okay, yeah. Yeah.” 

“45 minutes. I’ll see you then.” Zayn touched Louis’ shoulder, and immediately turned away and made a beeline for the Ravenclaw table, refusing to look back at him. 

Louis stood there, frozen to the spot, until he heard someone behind him go, “Oi, excuse me. Trying to get by here,” and then he was pushed past by a disgruntled seventh year shouldering a massive book bag. It stirred Louis back to life, and he meandered over to the Slytherin table. 

“Babe… who died?” Perrie asked with concern as Louis approached the table. 

“I told Zayn I need to talk to him. I’m gonna do it, tonight. Like, in 45 minutes.” 

“Oh, shit,” Niall replied, staring open-mouthed at Louis. 

“Yeah,” he said, plopping down heavily on the bench. “I feel like I’m already dying but it’s chill, I guess.” 

“Is there anything we can do?” Jade asked, reaching to take Louis’ hand in theirs, stroking it fondly and gently. 

“I dunno. Just like… talk to me about anything. Literally anything other than this.” 

“Ooo, I can do that with no problem at all,” Jesy giggled, and then launched into an animated story about a girl who sits in front of her in History of Magic who apparently always misses a spot at the back of her head when brushing it and now there’s just this awful knot that Jesy cannot stop staring at during class. 

And Louis tried to listen, he really did. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Zayn. And how it was all about to change. 

He also noticed how quiet Harry was. But they’d talked about this. They’d agreed on this being Louis’ course of action. Harry had supported him. But it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when Harry was so visibly…well, _hurt_. But Louis couldn’t deal with that right now. That was something Harry had to work on, and that they could work on together. But not tonight. 

The 45 minutes somehow passed. It felt like Louis was crawling through treacle, but it was finally time. He stood up abruptly. 

“Okay, I’m going now. Fuck,” he said, grabbing his bag and starting to shake a bit. His announcement was followed by a chorus of ‘good lucks’ and ‘we love yous.’

“Lou?” came Harry’s voice, deep but soft. Louis walked over to where they stood, and was immediately drawn into a tight hug. “I love you. You’re gonna do great, babe. Please come talk to me as soon as it’s over, yeah? I’ll be in my common room.” 

Louis’ heart fluttered. “Yeah, yeah I’ll do that. I love you, H.” 

Harry squeezed a bit tighter. And then they let go. 

Louis started walking towards the doors of the Great Hall, lightheaded and terrified.

 

***

 

_I wanna sleep next to you_

_And I wanna come home to you_

_I wanna hold hands with you_

_I wanna be close to you_

 

Louis and Zayn walked in silence down to the Quidditch pitch. It was too dark for practices, so it was empty. It was brisk and a bit windy, but not too cold. Louis was still shivering, though. 

They finally reached the pitch, and Louis stopped walking. Suddenly he sat down on the grass. Zayn followed suit. 

They continued to sit in silence for a minute, before Zayn finally spoke. 

“So, uh, what’s going on, Lou?” he asked tentatively. 

“Um.” Louis heart was beating so loudly and so violently that he felt like he was going to vomit. Or that his ribs would crack. His body was going to explode, one way or another.

“Louis,” Zayn said, touching his knee delicately. “You’re freaking me out. Is something wrong? I’m like, proper scared now.” 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, no, there’s nothing like. Wrong, necessarily. I’m just—I have something to say and for some reason it’s really fucking hard to get it out. I just need to fucking say it.” 

“Okay,” Zayn replied tentatively. 

Louis swallowed. And then he started. “So for a while, I’ve been feeling like. Confused. About, um. Us. Like… I don’t really know what this is? What we are? D’y’know what I mean?” Louis looked up from the grass he was anxiously ripping out only to be met by a slack-jawed, wide-eyed Zayn. “Fuck, I told myself I’d be less of a fucking mess about this. God dammit.” Louis took a deep, slow, shaky breath. “Okay, I’m just gonna fucking say it! I like you. Like in a romantic way. I think maybe more than I’m willing to admit to myself. Cuz for the past month and a half, literally since the goddamn moment I saw you, I’ve been basically obsessing over you. Which I probably shouldn’t have said, because that’s creepy. _God,_ I’m really doing such a fucking awful job of this. I’m—I dunno, Zayn, I just don’t _get it_. Like that first week or so? I felt this amazing chemistry between us. I felt so comfortable with you, it felt like we just slotted together perfectly and I was so, so happy. And then all of the sudden you just started…pulling away. And you stopped sitting with me at meals and declining when I asked to hang out or study or whatever. And if I thought you just didn’t like me or didn’t want to be my friend I would’ve let it go by now, but like, that’s the thing! When we’re alone, it’s like—you tell me things that I feel like you’re not telling anyone else. And the way you look at me isn’t the way that Jade or Liam or Perrie or whoever looks at me. It’s different. It’s like…it’s softer. It’s deeper. So I just don’t know, and it’s literally ruining my life _not knowing_ and I was so scared to say anything because I was so worried I’d be ruining our friendship but I just can’t do this anymore, Zayn. I can’t walk around pretending that I don’t want more of you, because I do. And not knowing if you feel the same or just like what you feel period is…I can’t function anymore and I just need to know. Please.” Louis’ voice cracked on the last word. 

But Zayn sat silent. He felt like he’d been hit by a wave. A huge, 20-foot tall, monstrous wave that just fucking crashed straight into the center of his chest. He felt like he was falling, but at the very most he was swaying slightly with the wind. His whole body was painfully tense. He couldn’t move, or speak. Or breathe. Was he breathing? 

“Oh god. I should’ve kept my fucking mouth shut. I really fucking did that, I really just went and ruined this whole thing. I should go, I’m sorry I did this—“ Louis started, tears popping to his eyes, forming a meniscus on his bottom lids. 

“No,” Zayn said, finally remembering how to talk. “No, please, don’t go anywhere. I just. I need a minute. Just wait with me.” He reached out for Louis’ hand, and he held it. Tight. The palm was sweaty, the bones were shaking. But Zayn held on. He closed his eyes, and he counted up to eight on an inhale, back down to zero on an exhale. He tried to pretend he was somewhere else, but he couldn’t. He could feel Louis’ presence climbing all over his body, despite neither of them moving an inch. He finally opened his eyes, after who knows how long. 

“Hi,” Zayn said breathlessly, greeted by Louis’ piercing blue eyes that were so bright even in the dark. 

“Hey,” Louis replied, almost soundlessly. 

“Can we lay down?” Zayn asked. Louis nodded. 

Zayn leaned back, never once letting go of Louis’ hand. If anything, holding it tighter. Louis laid down next to him, and Zayn shimmied closer, until their shoulders and arms were touching, pressing against each other. 

“Please say something Zayn, I’m literally dying here.” 

Zayn smiled up at the sky, littered with stars, the crescent of the moon smiling back at him. His heart felt full. So, so full. 

“You’re so beautiful, Louis. I’m not even looking at you right now, and I just… I _know._ I can see your face in my head, and I almost don’t even want to look at you right now because I’m genuinely scared that if I see your face it’ll take my breath away and I won’t be able to say anything.” Zayn paused for a moment. “This is the happiest I’ve been in the longest time. Just right here, with you, under the stars. I get to be close to you, and the sky is so beautiful, I could stay here forever. Can we just stay here forever, Lou?” 

Louis’ chest opened up a bit more at that, but still felt constricted. 

“Zayn, can you be a bit more…direct, maybe? This is all good and well but I kind of need something more concrete. Like, answers.” 

“I can try. But there’s so much, I dunno how I’m gonna say it all. But I guess I’ll just start and see where it goes?” He took a deep breath. “I feel the same way about you. Or like, in my own way, I guess. As soon as I met you, I felt this physical pull towards you. What’s that song from _High School Musical 2?_ Oh yeah…” Zayn started singing, “ _And like a common thread, mmm you’re pullin’ me._ ” He smiled up at the sky again. 

“Zayn, I literally have no idea what High School Musical is…” 

“We have to change that, but not right now. I’m sorry, I’m all over the place, I’m trying to like, stay in this moment.” 

“Just keep talking,” Louis said. 

“Yeah, yeah. So anyways, I just felt myself getting drawn in almost magnetically and I got scared. Because it felt like it was happening so fast. So I stepped back. And I felt you step back too. And I just felt like I was on the periphery, watching you from, like, behind a glass wall, almost. And I kept wanting to go on the other side of the glass and I was scared, because I didn’t want to get swept up in something that was never going to work. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, and then have no friends here, and then it would be like I never even transferred at all. I would just be alone again. So I figured it was easiest to pretend that we were just friends and wait for the feeling to go away. But it didn’t, Louis. It just got stronger and snowballed until it was this weight on my chest. This heavy, wet weight that I was carrying everywhere with me. And now I feel like it’s gone. Or like, it’s transformed. Like a caterpillar becoming a butterfly. Which sounds really fucking cliché, but I dunno, I’m feeling really poetic right now. You’re just so _vibrant,_ Louis. I cant stop staring at you when I’m around you. I can’t stop thinking about you when I’m not around you. All the times I sit at my house table I wished I was sitting there with you, or when I was up in my rooms doing homework, whatever it was. I always find myself coming back to you, and it scares me. Because I’m just feeling so much all the time for you, about you. I don’t even know, I’m rambling now, but. Did that answer your questions?” 

“Yeah,” Louis sighed, a featherlight, weightless sigh. “I didn’t expect it to go like this at all. I mean, I don’t really know what I was expecting, but it sure as fuck was not this.” 

“Me neither. I thought you were going to say that you didn’t like me and didn’t wanna be my friend anymore. But,” Zayn laughed. “I was clearly wrong.” 

“This so fucking wild,” Louis said. “Harry’s been telling me for weeks to say something to you—”

“So Harry’s cool with this?” Zayn interrupted. 

“Yeah, yeah. I mean, we’re in a polyamorous relationship, this is what we’ve agreed to do. But that doesn’t really matter right now. Cuz right now is about us.” Louis squeezed his hand, which was now almost damp. 

Zayn turned his head to look at Louis, who did the same. Zayn immediately broke out into a massive grin. Louis couldn’t help but smiling back. 

“Just like I said. So fucking beautiful,” Zayn exhaled. “Can I do something I’ve been wanting to do for weeks?” he asked. 

“What is it?” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Louis nodded, eyelashes fluttering. Zayn shifted his weight and tilted his head closer to Louis’, and gently pressed their lips together. It was so soft, so seamless; it felt like they were made for each other, pieces fitting together effortlessly. The moon kept smiling down on them, and the blanket of inky blue-black resting beneath the twinkling stars was the perfect backdrop. That’s what it was. It was perfect.

 


	4. Chapter 4

_This is the start of something beautiful_

_This is the start of something new_

_You are the one who'd make me lose it all_

 

The window next to Louis’ bed was always foggy when he woke up. It was getting colder, and at the top of Gryffindor tower, the condensation got trapped and clouded the glass panes every morning. One mid-November morning, Louis awoke to his foggy window pane letting in weak streams of sunlight, as it did every morning. But this particular morning, he wasn’t alone in his bed. Zayn laid asleep next to him, curled up into Louis’ side, breathing steadily and shallowly. Louis noted that his eyelids weren’t fluttering, so he wasn’t dreaming. He looked so, so peaceful. Louis was scared to move an inch out of fear that he would wake him. But he was also so tempted to kiss his forehead, stroke his cheek, play with his hair, do _something_ just to feel him a bit closer. Louis checked his watch—it was nearly half seven, so it was about time to wake up anyways. 

He snaked his arm up and over, bringing it around to rest on Zayn’s shoulder. He shifted his body to face Zayn’s, so he could look at him better. His black hair was hanging in his eyes, so Louis delicately moved it out of the way, sweeping it up towards his forehead. The touch, just as Louis suspected, woke Zayn. He blinked his eyes blearily a few times, adjusting to the light and to consciousness. Then he started smiling lazily, a sparkle twinkling in his still-sleepy eyes. 

“Morning, love,” Louis said quietly, leaning over to kiss Zayn’s forehead. 

“Morning, babe,” Zayn croaked, voice still deep and crackly. 

“How’d you sleep?” Louis asked. 

Zayn nodded. “Good. How ‘bout you?” 

“Me too.” 

Zayn scooted in closer to Louis, and curled his arms around Louis’ waist. Louis hugged Zayn tighter to him and just breathed in the moment. God, it was so good. 

“I love this,” Zayn said softly. “I love waking up to you, and being here with you. I love this so much.” 

Louis couldn’t stop smiling. “Same.” 

He stayed quiet for a minute, the two of them breathing almost in sync. And then Louis spoke again. “I’m really happy, Z. You make me so happy.” 

Zayn just smiled into Louis’ shoulder, kissing the golden skin and trailing kisses up his collarbone, to his jaw, then his cheek. 

“Don’t wanna kiss you proper til after we brush our teeth,” Zayn giggled, placing another kiss below Louis’ ear as he sunk back into the blankets. 

“Well, now we’re in a pickle, because that means we have to get up. Or we could stay right here a bit longer, and you could just kiss me anyways,” Louis replied, smiling cheekily. 

Zayn pretended to think really hard, scrunching up his eyebrows and stroking his chin. “Hmmm…” And then he darted forward and pecked Louis on the lips, immediately dissolving into giggles. Louis laughed too, not because anything about it was particularly funny, but because it was all his body could do to express the joy that was bubbling up in his chest. All because of Zayn.

 

_***_

 

Louis and Zayn were walking towards Ravenclaw tower, fingers intertwined in the pocket of Louis’ jacket. It was realistically too cold to be holding hands with no gloves on, so Zayn had insisted they get creative. He took Louis’ hand in his, and shoved it into Louis’ pocket. 

“There,” he’d said. “Now I have to stand closer to you.” He winked at Louis, who giggled and knocked Zayn with his shoulder. 

Zayn started telling Louis about his Herbology class, and how some plant that Louis couldn’t remember the name of had tried to strangle the professor earlier that day. But his attention was drawn away by the sound of a voice calling out his name. 

“Louis!” It was Harry, he could tell without even turning around. They were about 20 yards away, and walking quickly towards the pair, their beloved Hufflepuff beanie tucked over their curly hair. 

“Hi,” Harry said as they reached the two. They awkwardly ducked in to kiss Louis, their shoulder brushing against Zayn’s. 

“Hi, Hazza,” Louis replied, smiling at them. 

“Hi Harry,” Zayn said almost timidly, attempting eye contact and then immediately abandoning that plan as soon as Harry looked over at him. 

“Hi Zayn,” Harry replied. They were smiling, but it was a bit unnerving. It didn’t reach their eyes. They turned their attention back to Louis. “Where are you all headed? Library?” 

“Oh, actually we were headed to Zayn’s rooms,” Louis said, sensing that that wasn’t the answer Harry wanted to hear. 

He was right. Harry’s shoulders dropped a little bit. Fuck. 

“You can join us, if you want,” Zayn chimed in, voice still quieter than it should’ve been. And, well. Louis wasn’t quite expecting that, and by the looks of it, neither was Harry. 

“Oh, um, thanks, but it’s alright. I actually have to, um, I should probably work on my Divination homework with Pez, she overslept and missed class so I was gonna…yeah,” Harry finished awkwardly, toeing at the ground with their boot. 

“Okay, yeah, help Pezza, lord knows her marks need all the help they can get in that class. Why the fuck’s she taking it again? I didn’t know it was required this year?” 

Harry shrugged. “Think it’s cuz she did so bad last year, they made her take it again.” 

“Jesus. I can’t imagine taking that class _again_ , I’d probably fucking jump off the astronomy tower,” Louis said, making Harry laugh. But then their eyes lost their sparkle again and they lowered their gaze back to the ground. 

“I should go, then,” they said. 

“H, love, wait up for me? Thought I could sleep over tonight. We haven’t done that in a few days. Miss you stealing all the fucking blankets,” Louis said teasingly, hoping to get another laugh out of Harry. 

They nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’ll be back in my rooms around 10, I think. When d’you think you’ll come over?” 

“Probably around the same time, I think. Has the password changed?” 

“Nope, same as before,” they replied, smiling again. They leaned forward to kiss Louis once more, this time lingering a bit longer. “I really should go, I need to catch Perrie before Jesy gets to her and distracts her from this fucking homework. But I’ll have tea waiting for you when you get home.” 

_Home_ , Louis thought. He didn’t know what else to think about the word, except that it stuck out to him. _Home._  

“Love you, Haz.” 

“Love you too, Boobear,” Harry replied, smiling widely at the use of Louis’ most hated nickname. “See you, Zayn,” they added as they walked away. Louis stood and watched them go, Zayn waiting patiently at his side until Louis finally looked away and continued walking towards Ravenclaw tower.

 

_***_

 

“Does Harry dislike me?” Zayn asked Louis suddenly the next evening while they were sitting across from each other in the library. 

Okay, well. He assumed when he saw Zayn open his mouth to speak that he was about to ask him a question about their Potions homework that they were working on, but. Alright. 

“No, no, they don’t not like you. Not at all.” Louis had to phrase this delicately. “They just. I dunno. For a year it was just the two of us, y’know? Just me and Harry. And they _know_ that from the start we’d agreed we would be in a polyamorous relationship, because we’re both polyamorous. So it makes sense. But they’re just having trouble adjusting to a different…flow, I guess you could say. We used to spend like, every minute together, and Harry’s just a bit, like—”

“Jealous?” Zayn cut in, expression unreadable. 

“Kind of. A bit jealous, a bit like…resentful. But like, it’s not about you as a person,” Louis was sure to add quickly. “It would be the same if it were anyone. They’re just in an adjustment period, that’s all. They like you just fine.” 

Louis thought that would be reassuring to Zayn, but apparently not. Because his shoulders were slumped and his head was just nodding lazily, immediately turning his eyes back to his book. 

“Hey, Z,” Louis tried again. Zayn looked up. “Don’t worry about it, okay? Harry and I are working on it, I promise. I don’t want you to stress about it, cuz I’m the one in the relationship with Harry, not you. The two of us are sorting it out. I know them like the back of my hand and I know they’ll be fine once the dust settles.” Louis made sure to catch Zayn’s clouded eyes and hold his gaze for a minute. Then he reached across the table and took Zayn’s hand in his, stroking the back of it with his thumb. Zayn’s demeanor immediately softened, and he gave Louis a gentle, genuine smile before turning back to his book, but not pulling his hand away from Louis’. But Louis could sense that there was something else Zayn wanted to say, so he waited. 

“It’s just like…” Zayn finally said. “Obviously I don’t want them to _dislike_ me but like, I actually want them to like me. I wanna be able to spend time with them, with both of you, without it being awkward and weird.”

“It’s not—“ Louis interjected.

“Lou, please. Maybe you’re not feeling it because you’re comfortable with both of us, but it’s so fucking tense when it’s just the three of us. Like it’s not so bad when it’s the whole group, but like yesterday when they ran into us when we were going to my room? That was so awkward. And I invited them to come hang out with us, and they immediately said no.”

“Well, they said they had to help Pez with her homework,” Louis said somewhat defensively. 

“I know that, but it felt more like an excuse than a reason. Which is like, whatever, if they didn’t wanna come then they didn’t want to, but it just makes me feel bad that it’s because of me that there’s this weird tension. And I feel like it’s been there since literally the day we met. I just really want them to like me, Louis. I feel like we should get along great, y’know? We have a lot in common. Like with gender stuff, and ace stuff, and like, we’re both dating you, so there’s that,” Zayn chuckled. “But it just feels like they don’t want to try, and I feel like I’m trying. And it would mean a lot to me if they didn’t look dead inside every time they saw me. Maybe that’s too much to ask, I dunno, it just makes me feel like shit, cuz I know I’m the reason. And I don’t want to be making anyone feel that way, but especially not someone you love.” 

“You’re not the reason, though. That’s what you’re not getting. It’s _Harry’s_ problem, not yours. I’ll never stop telling you this, Z, I’ll say it as many times as I need to. Harry is my partner, and I’ll work on it with them. We talk about this a lot, I promise. I don’t doubt I’d feel the same way that they do if the roles were switched. It really is just a transitional thing. Harry isn’t generally a jealous person, and they’re not possessive or anything. You have to try to understand how they must feel, when it was just the two of us for so long, and this thing with us happened pretty quickly, like comparatively. Now Harry and I spend a bit less time together, cuz I’m spending time with you as well, but they’ll get used to it. All three of us will. We just have to keep working on it, and it’ll get better with time. I promise.” 

Zayn was silent, absorbing everything Louis said. He finally nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Yeah.” 

“You promise you mean that? I don’t want you to say it just so I’ll shut up,” Louis said, only half-joking. 

Zayn smiled up at Louis. “Yeah, I promise.” 

“‘Kay, good. I’ll talk to Haz again, see how they feel about all of us hanging out. Maybe we can go to Hogsmeade his weekend?” 

“I’d like that, yeah.” 

Louis smiled and squeezed Zayn’s hand once before pulling his back so he could return to his homework. 

 

***

_But can I call you home?_

_You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours_

_I just wanna let you know_

_In my mind I call you home_

 

It was the first snow of the year. It was about a week or so before Christmas holidays. Louis had woken up with Harry’s long limbs wrapped around his smaller body, and had roused them as soon as he realized it was snowing. As soon as they registered what was going on, they leapt out of bed and went to stare out the window. Playing in the snow was one of Harry’s absolute favorite things, but Louis preferred to stay inside and watch the snow from afar. He hated being cold and he hated touching icy things; it was a sensory discomfort. But he loved how happy it made Harry. So while Harry, Liam, Leigh, and Jade were all outside presumably having a snowball fight, Louis and Zayn were tucked far away in Ravenclaw tower with mugs of cocoa, burritoed in a blanket in front of the fire. Surprisingly, the common room was empty; everyone else was probably outside in the snow as well. 

Zayn loved playing muggle music for Louis, and he was fascinated by muggle technology as well, so he was playing songs from what he told Louis were called ‘speakers, and the music was stored in a little rectangle called an ‘iPod.’ Louis didn’t understand how the fuck it worked, and neither did Zayn, but he did know how to use both of the devices. So he’d turned on a playlist he had, and they just laid together, while Zayn sang along, and Louis took it all in. Zayn had a beautiful, silky voice, and he loved music. It was why he’d brought his iPod and speakers to Hogwarts, even though having muggle technology at school was frowned upon. He needed that piece of himself with him at all times, he couldn’t leave it. And he wanted to share it with Louis. 

“ _Settle down with me…cover me up…cuddle me in…”_ Zayn sang softly. He smiled at Louis at the apropos, if not literal, lyrics. There was gentle guitar playing in the song. Zayn let the singer go for a few bars on his own before joining in again. “ _And your heart's against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck…I’m falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet…And with a feeling I'll forget, I’m in love now.”_

And since Zayn knew it was coming, he’d preemptively turned Louis’ face up towards his, so that when the singer said _‘kiss me’_ in the following phrase, their lips met. Louis’ smiled into the kiss, because the moment was oddly poetic, albeit slightly staged. But he liked that about Zayn, and it was kind of unexpected. He was secretly very romantic, in an almost theatrical way. He wanted storybook moments, scrapbook moments, perfect moments. 

They stayed intertwined like that for several minutes, the song continuing on in the background, second only to the sounds of Louis and Zayn’s lips and breath moving in their own ways. Zayn pulled away finally, leaning back down on the floor and drawing Louis’ head to rest on his chest. 

“ _This feels like falling in love…falling in love… We’re falling in love,”_ was the final phrase of the song, sung in a fragile falsetto, and then it faded out. 

The next song that played started with a piano, and a girl singing. Then another girl with a higher voice joined in to harmonize. And then a guy joined in, and the first girl’s voice dropped out. 

“Wait for a specific line that you might recognize,” Zayn said. 

And within moments, there it was, a line Zayn had said that night out on the Quiddith pitch: _like a common thread, mmm you’re pullin’ me._  

“That one,” Louis said, and Zayn nodded, smiling. 

“This is from one of my favorite muggle movies, it was a trilogy sort of thing called _High School Musical._ This is from the second movie. I love this song,” he explained briefly. 

The chorus had ended and it was heading into the second verse now, the pace having picked up significantly from the delicate piano at the beginning. “ _It’s like I knew you before we met, can’t explain, there’s no name for it,”_ Zayn sang along. “ _I’m saying words I never said, and it was easy, ’cause you see the real me…”_

Louis listened. He felt like there was a reason Zayn was playing these songs, that it wasn’t just a random playlist he’d put on. It felt deliberate, as it always was with Zayn. But these words felt serious. They felt big. Even if they were somebody else’s words in a song Louis’d never heard before, Zayn was sharing them with him on purpose. So he listened to what Zayn was trying to say. 

_“You are the music in me,”_ Zayn sang, his fingers reaching to intertwine with Louis’. Louis felt Zayn’s heart beating rapidly under where his head was resting on his chest. What sounded like a full choir came in and Zayn stopped singing, now playing with Louis’ fingers. 

Time felt endless when they were together. The only thing keeping track of the time was the changing of the songs, but even that felt like it was in a slightly different plane, existing a little bit to the left. 

But there was an aching to it. That existing-a-little-the-left feeling was partly because Louis felt like there was something marginally off. Maybe it was more than marginal. He didn’t know. But he felt like there was something Zayn was keeping hidden far away and he wanted to know what it was. So he started simple and direct. 

“Watcha thinkin’ about?” Louis asked, swirling patterns across Zayn’s chest with his fingertips. 

“You,” he replied. 

“What about me?” Louis pressed on. 

Zayn didn’t answer. A new song came on, and he let it play for about around two minutes in silence. Suddenly he joined in with the girl singing. _“You put your arms around me, and I believe that it's easier for you to let me go…”_

Louis let the words play back in his mind. Was that Zayn’s answer? Suddenly the room was spinning, even though he wasn’t moving at all. He tried to push through the feeling, seeing if Zayn would say anything else. The song played on. 

“ _I hope that you see right through my walls…I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling…I’ll never let a love get so close…You put your arms around me and I'm home…”_

Louis couldn’t find his words anymore. He thought he might know where this was going, but he didn’t know what the fluttering in his chest meant.

_“I tried my best to never let you in to see the truth…And I've never opened up, I’ve never truly loved 'till you…”_

Louis’ heart was racing. The same lyrics repeated, and then the song faded out, the final word of ‘home’ resonating around the room. 

“That’s such a strange word to me,” Zayn said, almost abruptly.

“Which word?” 

“Home,” Zayn answered. 

“Why’s that?” Louis asked. 

“I didn’t really ever get it, like as a concept. When I was at Beauxbatons I knew so many people that always said they were ‘homesick,’ and I never understood what they meant by that. They missed their bedroom? Or their family? Or their town? I dunno, it all seemed so vague to me, and I couldn’t relate. I didn’t miss any of those things. I mean, like…it was _different_ not living in Bradford anymore and living in a different country and stuff but I never _missed_ it. Cuz I guess I’d never really felt at home there, even though I’d never lived anywhere else.” 

He paused, and Louis let him take a break without jumping in to say something. He could tell this was an incomplete thought. 

“I never really had a proper family, I guess. Even years before the divorce, my parents were never in the same place at the same time, almost like they were purposefully avoiding each other. The few times we were all together were catastrophic. So I was bouncing back and forth between my parents from the beginning, even when we were all living in the same house. I had to be different people with each of my parents. My mum needed me to help her take care of my sisters, she needed me to be quiet and obedient and always do what she said, no questions asked. And with my dad, he always expected me to be loud and play sports and talk about girls… he always pushed it so much. I think he always knew I was gay and that’s why he pushed it so intensely. He didn’t want his only son to be gay, so he tried to like, socialize it out of me. I was always switching personas and identities back and forth between them for as long as I can remember. And then when my mum made me move with her to France, it was a whole fucking _thing_ , and I’ve told you about that before. I never saw the girls anymore, and I was all alone at Beauxbatons, so it just became, like, me. And only me. And my parents treated me like their little puppet, using me as leverage against the other. _‘Well you had Zayn last month, I get him this month. It’s in our divorce agreement. I’ll take you to court again, Patricia,’_ ” he mimicked in what Louis had learned was his father’s accent. “And it was endless. So I just stopped caring. I realized that my parents were never going to love me for the person that I am, but just as a pawn in a disgusting game they were always playing with each other. I realized that Bradford was never my home, and neither was Beauxbatons, nor my mum’s house in Avignon. It wasn’t anywhere. I didn’t have one.” 

He stopped again, and this time Louis wouldn’t even think of saying a word. He stayed silent, staring at the ceiling, waiting for Zayn to continue. 

“But I’m starting to get it. At least a little bit, I think. Not in the same way that everyone else always talks about ‘home.’ I’m starting to understand that home isn’t necessarily a concrete thing, it’s not defined by the ‘what.’ It’s defined by how it makes you feel. When you’re home you feel safe, and comfortable, and loved. And I think I’ve found it.” 

Louis waited to see if Zayn was going to continue. He waited about a minute, and when Zayn didn’t say anything else, Louis figured it was safe to talk. 

“D’you mean you find home at Hogwarts?” he asked. 

“No, Louis,” Zayn shook his head very subtly. “I found it in you.” 

Oh. 

Fuck. 

And that was it, Louis was absolutely gone. If he thought the room was spinning before, it sure as hell was now. He had to close his eyes to keep from getting dizzy. His heart was beating so hard he knew Zayn could feel it, maybe even hear it. 

“Um, Lou?” he heard Zayn say, sounding a million miles away even though their bodies were touching at every point and Zayn’s mouth was inches from Louis’ ears. But even through the miles of fog he could still hear a painful shakiness in his voice, something teetering on the edge of breaking. “Can you say something, please?” 

Louis tried to pull himself back to the room, trying to focus on the feel of Zayn’s hand still intertwined with his, the irregular slamming of Zayn’s heart underneath his other hand still laying on his chest. 

“You found it in me,” Louis merely repeated back. 

“Um. Yeah,” Zayn replied, voice still quivering. 

“You didn’t have a home and now it’s me,” Louis said again, almost mechanically. 

“Uh, you’re starting to freak me out a bit, Lou,” Zayn said tentatively. 

Louis turned to look at Zayn. He stared straight into Zayn’s worried eyes and attempted to soothe away all the fear in them with one look. He saw the whole world in Zayn’s eyes, and he was drowning in them. In _him_. 

“I think that’s probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” Louis said, smiling delicately.

“Really?” 

Louis nodded. “And you know what else?” 

“What else?” Zayn asked with trepidation. 

“I think I’m in love with you.” 

Now it was Zayn’s turned to go silent and slack jawed. 

Louis just smiled bigger and wider. Yeah, he’s definitely in love. 

“Are you…really?” Zayn stammered. 

  “Yeah,” Louis said, smiling wider still. 

And Zayn broke out into a grin so wide his cheeks started hurting. 

“I don’t think I knew for sure ’til just now. All the things you said—I don’t know, everything was going through my head so fast… When we started dating I…I dunno, I wasn’t expecting to fall in love. I didn’t know what to expect, really, I just thought we would try this and see where it went. But you’re…Zayn, you’re so much more than I ever imagined you would be. You make my world brighter just by existing in it. You make my heart feel fuller than I ever thought it could. Seeing your face makes my whole body light up, and hearing you talk makes me wish I never had to hear anything else. And to get to _know you_ the way that you let me…it feels so…magical, almost. Like, I get to see you and know you and be with you and that just makes me feel like I’m the fucking luckiest person in the world. And that’s how I knew.” 

“I love you so much,” Zayn whispered, his smile never 

“I love you too,” Louis said. And then he kissed him, their breath stilling and quietening until the sound of the music became apparent again. It had been playing the whole time, but had been drowned out. And now in the stillness, they could hear it. 

_“I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend, lucky to have been where I have been, lucky to be coming home again…”_


	5. Interlude

_There's nobody like you_

_I've tried goodbye a hundred times,_

_not one of them true_

 

He’s worried that if he touches the sweater, it’ll burn him. It’s been sitting on his bed for weeks, staring at him at all hours of the day, taunting him, teasing him. Harry tried to move it once and Louis shrieked at them, yelling at them to not fucking touch it.

He’s terrified that if he touches it, he’ll be tempted to smell it. And it will smell like _Zayn_. A smell he misses so terribly. It’s been so many weeks. Endless, torturous days and nights. He can’t sleep. He can’t eat. He can’t do his coursework. He’s going to fail his fucking O.W.L.s, probably. All he does is stay in his bed and cry, or if someone’s managed to drag him to class, he cries during class too, either siting there and letting the tears fall silently or leaving the room abruptly to full on sob in the bathroom. Harry spoke to all his professors for him, made something up about a family member passing away, just so they would leave Louis alone.

But now here he is, for what feels like the millionth consecutive day, staring at this fucking sweater. All he has to do is put it in a drawer, tuck it far away. That would be enough, at least for now. Just putting it out of sight might help put everything it symbolizes out of mind. And he knows, if he’s being honest, that that’s what he needs. He knows he needs to stop obsessing about this and try to get back to his normal life. But even if that’s what’s best for him, it’s not what he wants to do. He can’t give up like that. It doesn’t feel like it’s over. It really, really doesn’t. It _can’t_ be. But where does he draw the line between denial and intuition? Is he just grieving and refusing to except reality, or is he right? That there’s something that’s pulling at him at every moment, telling him that it’s not over yet? 

He sits back down on his bed and takes several long, slow breaths. This could take a while. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

_It’s by far the hardest thing I’ve ever done,_

_to be so in love with you and so alone_

 

Christmas holidays had been painfully long for Zayn. It was the same length of two weeks for everyone, but it felt like an eternity for him. He’d spent half of it with his dad and the other half with his mum, so he barely had any time to relax. Not that he could relax around his parents anyways. But the back and forth was tiring. And he’d had to miss Louis’ birthday. He was in Avignon with his mum for Christmas, and it was impossible for him to get to Louis without being Apparated there, and he couldn’t even tell his mum he had a boyfriend, so there was no way he could get there. He’d sent him a letter and a present (a portable CD player with a mix CD) and had gotten a letter back on Christmas day. It was short and sweet, nothing nearly as long as Zayn’s, but it included a few photos that Louis’ mum had taken on his birthday. And although he’d loved getting to see Louis being smiley and happy, and he got to see photos of his sisters and mum too, it just made the distance feel further and made his heart feel heavier. Not only because Zayn wasn’t there, but because Harry _was_. 

Harry was in all but two of the photographs, grinning widely and looking fondly at Louis. Even from the photographs Harry looked so comfortable with Louis’ family. And there was one that hurt especially. It looked like Louis had just blown out the candles on his cake, and Harry was standing behind him, arms draped over his shoulder and down his chest. Louis had his face turned to the side, looking up at them, while Harry was looking down to meet his eyes. And they just—they looked so in love. Like they didn’t even care that all Louis’ siblings and his mum were right there in the room. Like they didn’t even _notice_ that they weren’t completely alone. They looked lost in each other, but simultaneously completely grounded. As though if gravity stopped working for a minute and everything around them started floating and moving, the two of them wouldn’t budge an inch. Zayn almost didn’t want the picture. It felt too intimate, like he’d intruded on something, just like that first day out on the hill. He resented Louis’ mum for even taking the photo, and Louis for sending it to him. It felt like he was just rubbing HarryandLouis in his face. He was constantly thinking about how he could never compare to what the two of them had together—he didn’t quite know why, but he always felt like Zayn and Louis were never enough together. Specifically that Zayn himself wasn’t enough. And that he never would be. 

It made Zayn want to leave, to get away, but he already _was_ away. He was miles and miles from Louis and Harry both, and that was exactly the problem. And then he started panicking. Because he suddenly realized that it didn’t matter how far he ran, how many countries he put between them, he couldn’t get away. The feeling followed him everywhere. 

He was able to keep the sheer panic at bay during the day, with the frenzy of Christmas serving as a momentary distraction. But after the day was over, and the rest of his family had gone to sleep, Zayn laid awake in his bed, and it all came flooding back now that he was alone again. Within minutes he was shaking and breaking out into a cold sweat. Taking sharp, ragged breaths. And _GOD_ he felt like he was suffocating. Absolutely choking on everything built up inside him. All of this raw emotion chafing at the edges of him, making every ridge and corner and space inside him ache and burn. He was on fire. He was really, truly burning alive. Everything was ultraviolet and technicolor and he was surely in the wrong dimension, there was no way everything could be _this vibrant._ But it was too bright, too aggressive, like someone had turned the knob far past a maxed out 10, jamming it closer to a 12 or 13. It hurt, and it hurt everywhere. Every inch of his body was pounding and throbbing, he felt like he could vomit at any second. Or maybe it was the need to cry? He didn’t know what any of it was, but he felt like he was trapped inside his body. Like all of _this,_ the unbridled emotion, was threatening to break through the walls of his soul. And he hated it. He hated every fucking second of it. He wanted it to stop, please, god, make it stop. But he knew it wasn’t going to stop. It was just going to get worse. That every time he saw him, some iteration of this wretched feeling would bubble up and bust to the surface. And even when he didn’t see him. Anytime, really, it could just pop up. It could catch him off guard, when he was in class, when he was eating breakfast, when he was trying to sleep. Any moment of time, he could think of him—by accident, even—and get hit with this wall-of-bricks feeling. And just realizing that made him want to take it all back. He’d never intended for it to be like this, for it to get this far. He felt out of his league, like he’d waded out into the ocean for a pleasant swim and suddenly the sandy floor just fucking dropped and he couldn’t touch the ground. He wanted to swim back to shore, far far away from that ocean. 

But he knew he couldn’t, that he wouldn’t even try. Because he couldn’t change the fact that no matter how far away he got from the ocean, he could never escape the feeling of a wave crashing straight into him every time he dared to wonder how he’d fallen so dangerously in love with Louis Tomlinson. 

 

***

 

_So don’t call me baby_

_unless you mean it_

_and don’t tell me you need me_

_if you don’t believe it_

 

Zayn wanted to be calm about the whole thing, he really did. But the thing was, ever since he’d met Louis, ‘calm’ was no longer an emotion or mental state he had the capacity to experience or reach. So as soon as he’d arrived back at Hogwarts after holiday, he made a beeline straight to Gryffindor tower in search of Louis. 

He gave the password and climbed through the entrance and went immediately up the stairs to the dorm. He could hear Louis’ voice from the stairwell and he took the last few steps two at a time. He arrived at the top of the stairs breathless. 

And there he was, sitting on his bed, laughing and smiling. With Harry. 

Zayn’s heart entirely stopped. And then he felt like shit. Because his heart shouldn’t stop like that when he sees his boyfriend with his other partner. It shouldn’t be like that. But, well, it _was_ that way. So. 

“Louis,” Zayn said, still trying to catch his breath. 

Louis’ head whipped around, and his eyes lit up. He jumped up from his bed and ran over to Zayn, enveloping him in his arms and squeezing tight. Zayn was thrown off guard—for some reason he was expecting Louis to be nonplussed to see him. 

“Zaynie, my love!” Louis exclaimed, breathing in Zayn deeply, running his hands over his back. He then moved his hands up to cup Zayn’s face and kissed him once quickly, pressing their foreheads and together afterward, then a second time more deeply. And Zayn got lost in it. He completely forgot Harry was in the room, he forgot every single worry he’d had about all of this. Cuz in that moment it was just him and Louis. 

“I missed you so much,” Louis whispered after pulling away, pressing his forehead to Zayn’s again. “That was such a long two weeks.” 

Zayn’s heart soared. “I missed you more,” he replied. 

“Doubt it,” Louis replied, kissing Zayn once more before stepping back completely and wrapping his arm around his waist and guiding him to his bed. 

“Hi Zayn,” Harry said, with genuine friendliness. Zayn was caught off guard yet again. 

“Hey Harry,” he replied, head still spinning from the feeling of Louis just being around him. 

“How was your holiday?” Harry asked. 

Zayn shrugged. “Not great. I was back and forth between Bradford and Avignon so it wasn’t really relaxing. How ‘bout you?” 

“It was good. I spent some of it with Lou—”

“I know, I saw the pictures,” Zayn snapped suddenly. 

Harry’s eyes went wide and they swallowed thickly. “Oh, uh, yeah. He told me he was sending you those. I, um, spent the rest of it at home,” they finished quickly. 

Zayn didn’t respond. His blood was boiling. Just a little bit. 

Louis just watched the whole interaction go on, slightly slack jawed. He made eyes at Harry that he hoped would communicate that he needed to talk to Zayn alone. Harry understood and nodded discreetly. They stood up and made to leave. 

“I’ll see you all later,” Harry said, not even bothering not to make up an excuse about why they had to leave. As soon as the door to the dorm closed, Louis turned to Zayn. 

“Uh, are you okay, babe?” he asked. 

“I’m fine,” Zayn snapped. He didn’t want to do this right now. 

“That’s not fair, Zayn. Don’t take whatever’s going on out on me. I’m here if you want to talk, but I’m not gonna do this if you’re just gonna be passive aggressive about it.” 

Zayn felt frozen. Louis was always so patient with him, even when he felt like he didn’t deserve it. Tears swarmed to his eyes. He felt like he was always on the edge of crying, lately. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to keep the tears at bay. But Louis could see it on his face. 

“What’s going on?” Louis asked, voice gentler than before. He wrapped an arm around Zayn’s shoulder and rubbed circles into it with his thumb. 

“I dunno,” Zayn replied. He was lying through his teeth and he was sure Louis could tell. 

“Love, look at me,” Louis said, voice impossibly soft. 

Zayn reluctantly brought his gaze up to meet Louis’, and the concern and caring he felt in Louis’ eyes pushed him over the edge. He wasn’t sobbing, but the tears were streaming openly and consistently down his face. 

“I just missed you so much, Lou,” Zayn said. He didn’t _want_ to keep avoiding the subject with Louis but his mouth kept betraying him. 

“I missed you too, babe, but that’s not all of it, and we both know it. Z, you can tell me what it is. It’s just me.” 

The tears fell hot and thick at that, still silently, but more intensely. Zayn didn’t even bother wiping them away. 

“I know. It’s you,” Zayn said finally. “That’s exactly it. It’s you.” 

“What does that mean?” Louis asked quizzically. 

“I just feel like—” okay, so he was really doing this right now. He was actually doing it. “—like I love you more than you love me,” he choked out, closing his eyes to try to stop the tears from coming out. They were burning his eyes and he wanted it to stop. 

“Why the fuck do you think that?” Louis replied, almost defensively. 

“I don’t know Louis,” Zayn practically wailed. 

“Yes you do, Zayn. Just say it,” Louis said firmly. Zayn cried harder. 

“I feel like Harry means more to you,” Zayn spit out. “Like you love them more. And that our relationship will never be as much, that it won’t last as long, that you just don’t want me as much. That I’m not enough.” 

“Zayn,” Louis said weakly, voice cracking under the pressure of the emotion drowning his vocal chords.

“Am I wrong?” Zayn asked, driving the knife deeper into his own heart. 

“Yes, of course you’re fucking wrong, Zayn,” Louis replied aggressively. “I don’t know what it’s gonna take for you to understand that my relationship with Harry is simply _different._ That’s it! Harry is a different person. And because of that, every single aspect of my relationship with them is different. The way we met is different, the things we do together, the way we communicate—all of it is just fucking _different!_ And comparing the two isn’t going to help anyone. Actually, it just fucking hurts people, because you’re clearly very upset about this and now I am too. Partly because I don’t like when you’re upset. But also partly because now I feel like there’s something I’ve done to make you feel this way. And also partly because it feels like you don’t trust me, don’t believe me, when I tell you these things. When I tell you that I love you, and how much you mean to me. And I don’t understand why you don’t believe me unless there’s something I’ve done or said to make you feel that way,” Louis said, voice petering out on the final words, beckoning in a silence. 

Zayn didn’t know what to say. He wanted to say that yeah, there were things that Louis was doing and saying that made him feel this way. Like spending holiday with Harry instead of him, but even that wasn’t Louis’ fault at all. So he knew if he said that, he would be opening up the conversation about whether maybe he’s too jealous of a person to be in a polyamorous relationship. But that might lead to Louis and Zayn breaking up, and he literally could not have that. He’d do whatever it took to hold onto Louis. And if that meant keeping his mouth shut and figuring out a way to work on this on his own, then so be it. That’s what he’d do then. 

Zayn nodded. “Okay, yeah. You’re right,” was all he said. 

“What?” Louis asked, voice rising in pitch. “What do you mean ‘I’m right?’ Like…that’s not an answer. I’m right about what? Like, we have to talk about this. Can we have a proper conversation about this? If not right now, then very soon?” 

“I just…” Zayn started, unsure of where he was going. “It’s nothing you’re doing. It’s my problem that I’m having with myself, and I’m worried you’re going to think I’m like not ready for a relationship like this and want to break up with me, and I don’t want that at all. I wanna be with you, I’m just struggling in my own head. I don’t know what to do about it, but I just don’t want you to leave.” He had stopped crying, but now his eyes were filling with tears again. God. 

“Darling, Zaynie,” Louis said, his sharp edges that had formed spikes beginning to soften again. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you. I love you, and I want to be with you. But I also want you to be happy, and not have these terrible thoughts. I know it’s not easy. Actually, it’s really fucking difficult. I’ve been there, though. My mum put me through a lot of therapy over the past few years, and I’m really glad she did, because I used to think the same exact way, all the time. After my dad left and then my stepdad left too, I had such severe abandonment issues that my first few years here I was in such a bad place. And for the longest time, things with Harry were really fucking difficult. You obviously didn’t know us then, but we had conversations like this all the time, where I was feeling the same way you were. I didn’t believe they really loved me. I thought they were stringing me along, just staying with me out of obligation, that I was somehow manipulating them into staying with me, all these awful untrue things. And Harry used to get so upset about it. There were times when we almost had to end it because it was just so much for both of us to deal with. But we didn’t, we powered through together, and now I’m doing better with it. So I’m sorry that I got angry at you; I didn’t mean to. I just don’t wanna see this happen all over again, I don’t want you to feel what I felt. And I know I can’t change how you feel, but I feel powerless to help you and that makes me so sad.” Louis kissed Zayn’s temple, close to his eye, his lips catching a few of the salty tears that had once again begun to fall. 

Zayn nodded again. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I’m—I don’t know.” 

Louis could tell there was more he wanted to say. “It’s alright, babe, I’m here. Whatever you need to say, you can tell me. Remember, I love you.” 

Zayn nodded again, and closed his eyes, squeezing tears out that then dropped into his lap. He took a deep, steadying breath. “I think I’ve had a lot of issues with my family that I didn’t realize had been so damaging for me. Like, I’ve been reflecting a lot about the fact that my parents just like? Don’t take care of me and don’t say they love me and don’t treat me like their kid. They just treat me, and the girls too, like a pawn in their divorce and I guess like… I can see now how it would translate to this. Feeling like you don’t actually love me and are saying it when you don’t mean it. And feeling like you’re just using me for whatever reason and will get rid of me as soon as I don’t serve a purpose anymore. Cuz that’s what they do to me. But knowing all this doesn’t really change the fact that I still feel this way, and it’s putting strain on our relationship, and maybe your relationship with Harry, too. I dunno, I just—I’m sorry.” 

“I’m so sorry Zayn. That’s so awful. You don’t deserve to be treated that way. You deserve so much better than that. And I’m so sorry you’ve been put through that,” Louis said, hugging him closer. “But I don’t want you to apologize to me. You’re doing your best, and I know that, and I appreciate it. All I ask is that you talk with me about this, that you don’t hide it from me. Can you promise me you’ll do that?” 

Zayn nodded. He didn’t have the energy to say anything else. 

“Love you, my little Bradford bad boy,” Louis said, giggling and planting a kiss on Zayn’s cheek. 

Zayn cracked a smile at the cringe-y nickname and let Louis kiss his cheek and then his lips. They curled up on Louis’ bed, Zayn drifting off at some point, exhausted from everything. 

 

***

 

_Step one, you say we need to talk_

 

Louis was distracted. He was in Charms, Niall on one side and Zayn on the other, as always. But he noticed that Zayn was twitchy. He was fidgeting with everything; his clothing, his pens, the corners of his textbook, his fingernails, literally anything that he could touch. And he was blinking a lot. It looked like he was blinking back tears, but from the angle he was at, Louis couldn’t be sure. But regardless, Zayn seemed Not Okay. This wasn’t the first time either. It had been about a month since they’d returned to school and had that talk about being open about how Zayn feels. And ever since, Zayn had just been _off_. He was consistently more distracted, he was showing up late to classes, he was less talkative. Louis tried to ask him if he was alright, and Zayn would always put on a smile and say he was fine, just stressed from coursework. So Louis tried to believe him; it seemed plausible. But today, this was on another level. This was worse than Not Okay, this was decidedly Bad. 

Louis ripped a corner off a sheet of paper in his notebook and scribbled _you ok?_ on it, and slide it a few inches to his right so it was in front of Zayn. He nudged his hand to draw his attention to it, and attempted to make eye contact, which Zayn immediately broke. As soon as his eyes darted to the scrap of paper, his body tensed up and his hand gripped into his hair. So that’s a no. 

There were around fifteen minutes left of class, and it was a torturously long fifteen minutes. All Louis could focus on was how he needed to talk to Zayn. He really looked a mess.

The moment that Flitwick dismissed them, Louis turned to Zayn. 

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked, grabbing Zayn’s hand. 

“Nothing,” Zayn said, pulling his hand away to stuff his things into his bag hastily. 

“Zayn, let’s go talk outside, yeah?” 

“No,” he replied sharply. It stung Louis. 

“What—why?” he asked, stammering a bit. 

“I can’t,” Zayn answered. 

“Why not?” Louis insisted. 

“Louis.” Zayn spoke firmly, but as he stood up and looked down at Louis, his eyes were glossy and frantic. “ _Please_.” Then he left, walking incredibly fast towards the door, getting lost in the crowd of students filtering out of the classroom. 

“Tommo, what was that?” Niall asked. 

“I don’t know,” Louis said, thoroughly shocked, confused, and hurt. Cuz like, what the fuck. 

Niall paused for a minute, staring at Louis, watching the concern and sadness etch lines into Louis’ face with every passing moment. 

“Let’s go to lunch,” he said, patting Louis’ shoulder. 

“Um. Yeah. Okay.” Louis wasn’t sure whether he should go looking for Zayn or not. He didn’t want to leave him alone like that, nor did he want him to think he didn’t care. But Zayn had made it pretty fucking clear he didn’t want to talk to him, maybe didn’t even want to be around him. So he decided to leave it at that, and he’d see Zayn at Potions after lunch. Maybe he’d be calmer by then and they could talk after class.  

 

***

 

_If you love me let me go_

_‘Cause these words are knives that often leave scars_

_The fear of falling apart_

_And truth be told, I never was yours_

_The fear, the fear of falling apart_

 

But Zayn didn’t show up to Potions. And he didn’t show up to dinner either. And he wasn’t in his dorm, nor anywhere that he could find in the library. Nobody in the Ravenclaw common room nor any Ravenclaws he passed in his hunt around the castle had seen him all day. He’d been crying on and off for about an hour, wandering aimlessly around the castle before Harry found him and brought him back to their room, where they laid down in bed and Harry tried to get him to think about anything else. 

Louis barely slept at all that night, waking up every hour or two with a heavy feeling of dread like a pit in his stomach. He wanted to get up and go to Ravenclaw tower to look for Zayn, but he knew it was too risky. He could get lots of points deducted from his house for being out in the middle of the night. When he finally woke up again at a somewhat reasonable hour (half past six) he immediately got dressed and went over to the Ravenclaw dormitory, trying to be as quiet as possible as he entered the common room and tiptoed up the stairs. 

But his heart fucking dropped when he pulled back the curtains around Zayn’s bed and saw that it was empty. The sheets were rumpled and the pillow was in the wrong place, and there were pieces of slightly crumpled and ripped paper littered all over it. Most of them looked like they had scribbles on them, or the text was crossed out. But there was one that Louis could clearly see had a full paragraph on it. He smoothed it out and noticed it was in Zayn’s familiar handwriting. 

 

_He makes me feel like I’m in a dream, some sort of poetic version of my life, feeling a storybook love that I know doesn’t belong to me. When I’m around him all else seems to fall away. Nobody else in the room exists. I can’t focus on anything except the points of contact our bodies are making, or the lack thereof. It feels like we’re living in a glass fishbowl that has been filled to the brim with a delicately pink water, shading everything just a touch rosier; enough that it only enhances the dreamlike quality of the experience, but not enough that it makes me aware that it’s there. And as soon as he’s gone from my sight, the water drains instantaneously. Everything goes from gentle and rosy to harsh black and white, subdued, tired monotones. And the worst part is that I know he’ll never feel the same. He has a love that belongs to him, a person he can call home. And me? He’s my everything, and when I try to come home, nobody’s there._

 

Oh god. Oh fucking god. He wished he hadn’t read that. Because now there was panic building in his chest starting to constrict his lungs, and his body was on fire, and the room wasn’t staying still. He couldn’t stop playing the words over in his head. Over and over and over and over. 

 _He’s my everything._ It echoed back in his brain, ricocheting off the walls. _My everything._

Everything is a whole fucking lot. 

And this, THIS is what Zayn left in his wake when he went to god knows wherever the fuck he went off to. 

Louis couldn’t breathe. He could not fucking breathe. 

He threw the paper down like it had burned him and he ran out of Ravenclaw tower and back to his room. He didn’t want to go down to breakfast, didn’t want to go to class, didn’t want to see anyone or do anything. Because it was his fault that Zayn had gone missing—it was so clearly his fault. And he’d told Zayn all those things he was thinking weren’t true, he’d said it. And he’d asked Zayn to talk to him about this stuff. So what else could he have done? He’d tried talking to him yesterday, and he was shut out. Louis tried to be mad at Zayn instead of himself but he couldn’t, because every time he tried he remembered how pained and scared Zayn’s eyes had looked when he said ‘please’ and left. God, he looked so fucking terrified. 

Louis laid in his bed, clutching his favorite pillow, trying to cry quietly so as not to wake the other boys in his dorm. He didn’t know what the fuck to do. Where else could he look for Zayn? Hogwarts was only so big, and there were only so many places he could be. Maybe Zayn was also moving around the grounds and it was a game of catching him in the right place at the right time. Or maybe he’d show up to classes and if he _didn’t_ go to class and decided to go searching for him again, he’d miss him there? But once he was in class he couldn’t just leave. 

After laying in his bed for a good half hour, he finally got up and made his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, praying Zayn would be there. 

He wasn’t. 

And Louis looked a wreck. And everyone could tell, but no one said a word. 

“Morning, Lou,” Jade said brightly, concern still seeping into their gaze as their eyes darted to Harry. 

Louis just nodded at them, and sat down silently next to Harry. He put a piece of toast on his plate and picked at it, crumbling it between his fingers. Nobody was talking. He felt everyone’s eyes on him. He wanted to fucking die. 

“Anyone keen on a trip to Hogsmeade this weekend?” Jesy asked abruptly, and the rest of the group shifted into conversation, drawing the focus away from Louis. 

He skipped his first class (Zayn wasn’t in it) and wandered around the grounds and the castle despite the freezing cold. He went back inside for his next class. Zayn wasn’t there. Went to lunch. Zayn wasn’t there. Went to another class Zayn was supposed to be in. He wasn’t there. Louis was exhausted and scared. He didn’t know what the fuck to do anymore. Finally after Zayn not showing up yet again for dinner, Louis started tearing up at the table, his face contorting as he tried to hold them back. 

Harry immediately caught on and took his hand, leading him out of the Great Hall and into the corridor. Louis collapsed into Harry’s arms, sobbing and shaking. 

“I’m so scared, Haz,” Louis coughed out, gripping into Harry’s sweater, face buried into their shoulder. “Wh-what if he”—he let out a choked sob—“hurt himself or something? It’s all my fault this is happening and I wanna die.” 

“This is not your fault, Lou. You didn’t do anything wrong. You did what was in your power to do. This is out of your control now, and I know how scary that is for you. But I need you to stay strong for me, and for yourself, and for Zayn too. Can you do that, love? Can you hang on?” Harry said, knowing exactly what to say to Louis in these moments. 

“I don’t know, H,” he cried. “What the fuck do I do? I can’t do this.” 

“I’m not sure, Louis. I can go with you to keep looking for him if you want.” 

“No, it would just make it worse if we found him and we were together. I need to talk to him alone and he needs to see me alone.” 

“But—”

“Harry, I know it’s not right but that’s just how it is right now, okay? Zayn means the world to me and can’t risk hurting him any more than I already have.” 

Harry sighed. “Okay, fine. Then you go yourself, but please come find me once you’ve talked to him. I’m so worried about you,” they said, voice going quiet and a bit rough from the emotion chafing at their vocal chords. 

Louis disengaged from Harry’s arms, wiping his eyes on his shirt, staining the fabric along the neckline. He nodded in response. 

“Are you coming back inside?” 

Louis shook his head. 

“I’ll take your bag up to my room then. I’ll see you later, Louis. I love you.” 

“I love you,” Louis replied, kissing them and lingering a moment, hovering in front of their face.

Then he turned around and headed off on what felt like his 10,000th loop of the castle. 

 

***

 

_And if you have a minute why don't we go_

_Talk about it somewhere only we know?_

_This could be the end of everything_

_So why don't we go_

_Somewhere only we know?_

 

Louis searched what felt like every single fucking square inch of the castle and grounds. Anywhere that wouldn’t get him expelled if he were caught there, he searched. He was even tempted to go into those places, but stopped himself. After several hours of searching, his legs felt heavy and leaden, his feet hurt, he was freezing, and exhausted. He just wanted to die. He dragged himself back to his room. Harry had said to go to them once he’d talked to Zayn, and he hadn’t, so he was going to take advantage of the loophole in Harry’s statement and suffer alone in his room. He didn’t want to be around anyone right now. His boyfriend was missing for over 24 hours and it was his fault. 

He curled up in a ball on his bed and closed his eyes with all the lights on. He didn’t have the energy to turn them off or draw his curtains. He laid there for what could’ve been ten minutes, it could’ve been three hours, he had no idea. 

It felt like a dream when he opened his eyes, having heard a voice saying his name. 

“Louis.” 

It was Zayn. 

Louis blinked his eyes a few times and rubbed them, trying to figure out if he was awake or lucid dreaming. No, this was real life. Oh god. Heat filled Louis’ chest. 

“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN??!!” Louis shouted, jolting up from his bed. “I HAVE BEEN WORRIED FUCKING SICK FOR THE PAST 30 HOURS! I SEARCHED THE WHOLE GODDAMN CASTLE AND THE GROUNDS SO MANY FUCKING TIMES, I COULDN’T SLEEP, I COULDN’T EAT, I COULDN’T FUCKING FUNCTION CUZ I WAS SO FUCKING WORRIED!! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?” 

Zayn looked like a deer in headlights. His eyes were wide, glossy, and red. There were huge, dark bags under them as well. His hair was in disarray, and his sweater had one sleeve rolled up sloppily, the other sleeve down. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Zayn stammered out. 

“THAT’S IT? YOU’RE _SORRY?_ YOU CAN’T JUST FUCKING _DO_ THAT, ZAYN! YOU RAN OUT OF CLASS AND REFUSED TO TALK TO ME, THEN YOU JUST DISAPPEARED, AND YOU LEFT THOSE NOTES ON YOUR BED AND—”

All the color drained from Zayn’s face. “You…you read those?” 

Louis’ heart was hammering, and he was breathing heavily from shouting. He couldn’t yell anymore, his body was too tired for it. “Yeah, I did. The one about how I’m—”—he suddenly realized how much his whole body was shaking, and how hot the room was—“—I’m your everything.” 

“Oh god,” Zayn whispered, eyes filling with tears. He started pacing wildly, almost tripping over his own feet. He ripped off his sweater and threw it on the footboard of Louis’ bed. “It’s so hot in here I’m gonna pass out,” he muttered, dragging his hands through his hair. 

“Zayn. _Zayn,_ ” Louis said firmly, grabbing him by the wrist. “Where did you go? Why did you leave like that?” 

Zayn just shook his head. “I couldn’t—I couldn’t see you, I had to get away.” 

“Why?? Why couldn’t you see me? What the fuck is going on??” Louis pressed, voice rising again. 

“I don’t know, Louis, I just—” his voice started quivering. “—I don’t know who I am anymore.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“I knew this was gonna happen when I met you, I saw it coming and I just let it happen. I got lost in you and I can’t find myself. I don’t know who I am when it’s not in relation to you. The thought of living a life without you sounds so fucking unbearable, but being with you hurts so much. Every moment that I’m around you, or even when I’m not around you, all I can think about is how it’s never going to be enough, how _I’m_ never going to be enough. No matter what I do I’m never going to feel like enough for you, and I can’t do this anymore.” 

“What—what are you saying, Zayn?” Louis asked, gripping Zayn’s wrist painfully tight, eyes wild. 

“I don’t know, Lou, I don’t know. I feel like who I am is too much a part of you, I don’t know who the fuck I am, I just don’t know.” Zayn’s voice broke on the last words. 

“What does this mean, Zayn? Please stop. Please fucking stop,” Louis said, tears beginning to leak out of his eyes. 

“I don’t know how to be whole on my own,” Zayn said. 

“You don’t have to be,” Louis replied. “We can be puzzle pieces, we can be little pieces that fit together perfectly. Cuz we do. We’re perfect for each other, Zayn.” 

Zayn just shook his head. “No, Louis, we can’t be puzzle pieces. I need to be able to be whole on my own, and I’m not strong enough to do that while also being with you. I’m just not strong enough for that,” he said, voice fully breaking, tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“You _are_ strong enough, Zayn, you ARE! You’ve been through so much in your life, you can get through this. And I’ll be there for you, I’ll always be there for you, we can get through this together—”

“You’re not _listening_ to me, Louis. That’s exactly it. I _can’t_ do this with you. You say things like ‘always’ and ‘forever’ as though they exist. It’s not real, Louis, how can you not see it? It all ends. Everything ends and pretending otherwise just makes it hurt more when it’s over.” 

“It doesn’t have to end if we keep trying _together—_ ” 

“You don’t get it, Louis,” Zayn said, shaking his head. “If I rely on you to help me be strong on my own, it’ll never work. I’ll just get lost deeper into you, I’ll lose myself even more. I’ll get trapped in this hamster wheel of self-hatred, going through every day believing you don’t really love me because I’m not good enough, and I’ll never get out. I’ll just hurt myself more and more and it’ll be harder to get out. I don’t know if I’d make it out of that alive, Louis. I literally don’t.” 

Louis was sobbing now, refusing to loosen his grip on Zayn’s wrist. “Please stop,” he choked. “Please don’t say that. How can I help you understand that I _do_ love you? That I love you so, so much? That you fill my world with so much light and happiness and beauty? That you make my life _better?_ How can I help you understand this?” Louis’ voice was frantic now. 

Zayn shook his head again. “You can’t.” 

“Yes I _can_ , Zayn. There has to be _something_ I can say or do to—”

“There isn’t,” Zayn said firmly. “You’ve done everything you can for me, Louis. I know how hard you’ve tried, don’t think I don’t know. But there’s something wrong with me, Lou. You say all these things, and I feel like you’re lying. I feel like you’re lying to me just to reel me in and then break up with me when I’m most vulnerable. And part of my brain knows it’s not true, and I’ve tried so, so hard to listen to that voice. But the rest of my brain is screaming at me saying, _He doesn’t love you. He’s using you and will drop you as soon as he doesn’t need you for anything. He’s lying to you._ And I’m trying so fucking hard to not believe that voice, but I don’t know how. I’m not strong enough to know how.” 

“I would never do any of that Zayn, you know I wouldn’t,” Louis cried. 

“But I _don’t_ know that, is the problem, Lou. My heart wants so badly to believe you, but I just don’t. And this is not your fault, please don’t blame yourself for this, please don’t. This is my fault, completely my own fucking fault. So this is why I can’t be with you anymore, Louis. Cuz I don’t know if I’ll ever believe you, and it’s best if I get out while I still can.”

Louis couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see. The world was closing in around him, the walls were caving, the room was spinning, and he was stuck frozen in the center of it all. This had to be a nightmare. This had to be a fucking nightmare. This couldn’t be real. 

“Don’t do this, Zayn,” he choked out. “Please don’t do this.” 

“I have to, Louis. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I got you wrapped up in my fucking shit show of a life. You don’t deserve this. You deserve better than me.” 

Louis just kept shaking his head vigorously. “No, please,” he said over and over. 

“I have to go, Louis.” 

“Please, Zayn, don’t leave me,” Louis sobbed, gripping on to his wrist tighter til his fingers turned white. 

“I have to, Louis. I’m so sorry.” Zayn’s voice was wavering and wobbling as he wrenched his wrist away and turned to go.

Louis didn’t have the strength to grab on again. He felt his knees give out and he crumbled to the floor. “I love you,” he said through tears and broken breaths as Zayn reached the door and had his hand on the knob. 

Zayn turned around. His face was covered in tear tracks and his eyes were puffy and red. He looked at Louis one last time and just shook his head. 

“I wish I believed you,” was all he said, before turning the knob and shutting the door, leaving Louis sobbing on the floor. 

 


	7. Chapter 7

_So hard to face_

_that I can’t feel you anymore_

_Hard to face_

_that I can’t see you anymore_

 

Some people said Zayn transferred back to Beauxbatons. Some people said he dropped out of school completely. There were a hundred and one rumors floating around Hogwarts about why the fuck Zayn Malik dropped off the face of the earth a month after winter holidays. But the one thing everyone did know for sure is that they were not allowed to bring up Zayn Malik in front of Louis Tomlinson.

Harry had tried not to leave Louis’ side since the moment they found out what happened. After not hearing from Louis for hours, they went over to Gryffindor tower only to find him a dehydrated, soggy, red, heaving mess on the floor next to his bed. Harry tried to talk him down, but it was hard. It was so fucking hard to watch, and they cried too. Because in an alternate universe, Harry would’ve been where Louis was now, crying over Louis leaving in lieu of Zayn. And it made Harry feel _so much._ It made them ache for Louis’ pain that much more. They felt it echoing in their own heart the way a scar sometimes aches years later, deep under the surface as a ghost of the wound it marks. 

But Louis wanted to be alone a lot more than Harry felt comfortable leaving him to be. It wasn’t that he was upset with Harry or didn’t want to be around them specifically, he just couldn’t handle being around _anyone_. He couldn’t stand to see other people smiling and laughing and talking with their friends—didn’t they understand that there was no point? Everything was gray—ugly, dirty shades of gray, how was anyone seeing any color through this thick smog? He couldn’t stomach being around it, so he stayed by himself as much as he possibly could. 

Harry was at a loss of what to do. They couldn’t bear to see Louis this way, but they knew that this was something Louis had to deal with primarily on his own. All Harry could do was offer support. But they were fucking _mad_ at Zayn for doing this to him. And they didn’t want to be mad, they felt bad for feeling that way, but they couldn’t help it. They tried to remind themself that Zayn had done this because he was struggling immensely with his mental health, and had made a decision for himself out of self-preservation. This is what they told Louis time and again, reinforcing over and over that this was not Louis’ fault. But when Harry was in their own head, they couldn’t stop the anger from seeping in, because Zayn did this to him. And now they had to watch the love of their life suffer day and night like this, and it was heartbreaking. So yeah, they were mad. 

What made them the most upset, though, was that Louis woke up every day waiting for Zayn to come back. He wasn’t letting himself move on. He kept telling Harry he had this feeling that Zayn would come back, that he just needed time, that this wasn’t the end. Every time Louis said it, Harry’s heart ached just a bit more. They didn’t think he was coming back. Maybe around day three of his absence they entertained the idea. But after three weeks? No, he wasn’t coming back. They didn’t know how to get Louis to be realistic without hurting him more. The thought of Zayn coming back was one of the few things that got Louis out of bed in the morning (or afternoon). But holding onto a hope that wasn’t there was damaging Louis more than he could understand in the moment. And, on the off chance he did come back, what would happen? What would Zayn say? Would they get back together? All of it made Harry’s skin crawl a bit; they wanted Louis to get over Zayn and move on. But they also knew all of this was tainted by layers of jealousy and anger and it wasn’t fair to tell Louis all these things. It was Louis and Zayn’s relationship, and the most they could do was offer support and gentle advice. 

 

***

 

_In another life, I would make you stay_

_So I don't have to say you were the one that got away_

 

Louis felt so fucking helpless. He didn’t know how to get Zayn back, but he knew he could do it if he just had a little bit more information. If he knew where Zayn was, he could go there. He could send him an owl. He could do _something_ , if only he fucking knew what was happening. He was often tempted to send an owl to Zayn’s parents’ houses, but he knew that if his mum or dad opened them he would be outing him and he couldn’t risk that. So all he could do was wait until Zayn came back. 

Everyone kept telling him that Zayn wasn’t coming back. It had been three weeks; if he were coming back it would’ve happened by now, they said. But Louis didn’t believe that. He knew that what Zayn was dealing with was enormous. It wasn’t something he could get over in a few weeks. But Louis knew that however long it took, he would be there waiting for him. He owed Zayn that much, to wait just a little bit longer. Louis knew this wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t like it had nothing to do with him. He felt some amount of responsibility for all of this, even if it had been inevitable. 

Not that there weren’t moments when he wanted it to be over. Moments when he was absolutely livid at Zayn for leaving him so abruptly. Moments when he sincerely wanted to try to move on because he knew that was probably what was healthiest. Moments when he wanted to forget he ever knew a fucking Zayn Malik. Sometimes they were longer than moments, stretching into minutes and hours, sometimes days. But every time he came back to the fact that he couldn’t change that still loved Zayn so much, and that his life was infinitely better with Zayn in it. And he couldn’t give up on that hope that he’d come back, and they’d work through this, and would come out the other side stronger. Together. He’d done it with Harry, and he could do it with Zayn. He knew he could, if Zayn would just give him a chance to try. 

 


	8. Epilogue

_But I wanna sleep next to you_

_And that's all I wanna do right now_

_And I wanna come home to you_

_But home is just a room full of my safest sounds_

_So come over now and talk me down_

 

Tonight is another one of those nights where he feels like he’s going to snap in half from his brain pulling him in a million different directions. Part of him wants to put the sweater somewhere, just get it out of his sight. Three weeks is a long time. He wants to tell himself for the thousandth time to be realistic, be smart—Zayn’s not coming back. Get rid of the sweater, and start getting over him. 

But every time he goes to grab it, he stops himself. He can’t do this, he can’t give up like this. It’s not fair. Things weren’t supposed to happen this way. He and Zayn are supposed to be together, he _knows_ they are. Even if it hurts right now, and _god_ does it fucking hurt right now. But sometimes pain is just a consequence of love. And Louis believes that this is one of those times. If Zayn is learning how to be strong for himself, Louis can do the same. He can prove to Zayn that if he comes back, he’ll be there, ready to hold him up when starts to fall. He’ll be there to hold his hand when he feels lost. He’ll be there to hold him tight when he feels scared. He can do that. For Zayn, he can do all of it. Because he knows it’s worth it. Not because he think Zayn needs him—he knows Zayn can do this on his own. But because he knows he doesn’t _have to_. So he falters once more reaching for the sweater, remembering that Zayn deserves Louis’ patience. 

Louis sits back down on the bed, head in his hands. He needs a distraction. Maybe he could play around with that music thing Zayn gave him for his birthday, what was it called? A CD machine? It’s still something he associates with Zayn so maybe it’s not an ideal distraction, but it’s enough for tonight. 

After half an hour of reading the instructions Zayn provided with the CD player, Louis finally gets it working. He has a disc that he’d given him, a compilation Zayn had put together of songs he said reminded him of Louis. He puts it in, and presses ‘play.’ There’s a slight whirring noise as the little metal disc starts spinning rapidly. 

“ _Once in a lifetime means there’s no second chance, so I believe that you and me should grab it while we can…_ ” 

Louis had been sitting at the foot of his bed facing the wall while fiddling with the machine, so now that he’s gotten it working, he wants to lay down and listen to it comfortably. He shifts around and makes to lay down on his bed while the song plays on. 

“ _Every day of our lives, wanna find you there, wanna hold on tight…_ ” 

He’s got his legs untangled and shimmies them out from underneath him and starts to scoot back towards the headboard when he realizes in his peripheral vision that there’s a shadow in the doorway. He figures it’s just Harry come to check on him for the hundredth time, as they’d started doing since Zayn left. So he looks up, expecting to see Harry. 

Instead, he sees Zayn. 

He’s standing in the doorway, staring at Louis, not making a sound. Louis is frozen to the spot, leaning back slightly, upper body propped up on his hands which are placed a few inches behind his hips. They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, both remaining silent. Louis doesn’t feel like he could say a single word even if he tried. 

Zayn is the first to break the quiet. 

“Hi,” he says. And fuck, Louis missed that voice. He still doesn’t believe that he’s really here. It feels surreal. 

“Is that really you?” Louis asks softly, that being the only thing he can get to come out of his mouth. 

Zayn steps out of the doorway and into the room. He nods. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” he replies, voice equally as soft. 

Louis has no more words. He’s in shock, really. It almost feels like he conjured him by playing the CD, which makes it feel even more like a dream. 

“Can I come in?” Zayn asks. 

Louis nods. Zayn takes a few more steps towards Louis’ bed, but still keeps a distance. 

“You’re listening to the CD,” Zayn comments, eyes never leaving Louis. 

“I was missing you,” Louis practically whispers.

And that’s when Zayn’s face crumbles, losing all composure. His eyes immediately fill with tears that don’t quite spill over the surface. 

“You were?” he asks, voice quivering. 

“Of course I was, Zayn. I haven’t stopped missing you for a single second since you left. I haven’t stopped loving you for a single second either. I’ve been waiting for you.” Louis is surprised at how composed he is, how clearly he’s suddenly thinking. He’s been fantasizing about this moment for weeks, and now that it’s happening, it’s all coming to him as though he’s a medium, and someone else is feeding him the lines. But they’re all his words, and they feel right.

He gets up and walks over to where Zayn is now stood completely still, expression unreadable. He stands in front of him. He lifts a hand up to Zayn’s cheek and strokes it gently. Zayn closes his eyes at the contact, leaning almost imperceptibly into Louis’ touch. Louis uses his other hand to sweep Zayn’s hair away from his face, lingering a moment with his fingers curled into the strands. 

“I missed this. Missed you,” Louis says. “I knew you’d come back, Zayn. Everyone kept telling me it was over, to move on, but I knew you would come back for me. That wasn’t the end. I’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks, and now that you’re really here, I can barely believe it.” 

Louis wraps his arms around Zayn’s waist, burrowing his face into his neck, inhaling deeply. 

“Missed your smell,” he mumbles into the crook of Zayn’s neck. He hugs him tighter. “Missed your body.” He lifts his head up, meeting Zayn’s eyes. He presses a kiss to his lips, simple  but he stays there, drinking in the moment. “Missed your lips.” He tucks himself back into Zayn’s body. “Missed you so much.” 

And Zayn just hugs Louis’ back as tight as he possibly can. The two of them stay intertwined, breathing each other in. 

“Thank you for waiting for me,” Zayn croaks, voice thick with emotion. 

“Of course,” Louis replies. 

More silence as their bodies remained pressed together. 

“I’m so sorry,” Zayn finally says. 

Louis feels a stab in his chest. 

“I know,” he replies. 

Zayn untangles their bodies and takes Louis’ hands in his. “Can we sit down? I had all these things I had prepared to say…” he trails off. 

Louis nods, leading them to his bed. Louis lays down and pulls Zayn to his chest the moment he sits down. 

“I’m sorry I did that,” Zayn says. Louis doesn’t respond, so he continues. “I was so scared… I don’t know how to describe it, Louis, but I was so fucking terrified. It felt like I was trapped, stuck in endless back and forth of _he doesn’t love you, he’s just using you,_ to _so what if he doesn’t love you? At least he pays attention to you. At least it’s something. It’s more than you’ve ever had before, don’t throw it away_. But nowhere in there was a voice telling me that you love me. It was just different scenarios of ‘Louis doesn’t love me but is staying or going better worse’ and I felt so trapped. It hit a breaking point that day and I felt like I was going to do something drastic if I didn’t get away. It was self-preservation and I know that’s a shitty excuse for running out like that, because it was selfish, but it’s the only reason I have. And then I felt so fucking awful seeing you like that, but there was also this disconnect—I didn’t understand why you were so upset if you didn’t love me. It didn’t make sense. So after that whole night, I was thinking about that a lot. I was trying to explain it away, using arbitrary things in its place, like _he hasn’t tried to contact you so clearly he doesn’t care_ but even that one I couldn’t hold onto long because I knew that you didn’t know where I’d gone to, so of course you hadn’t sent an owl or anything. I tried to come up with more reasons for why you would be so upset at me leaving and I just _couldn’t_. And that was kind of when I started realizing that maybe you weren’t lying to me. Maybe you were telling the truth the whole time, and all it was was me not being able to believe you. Before that, I knew that I didn’t believe you, but because I thought you were lying, and I thought I was secretly right. But then I started realizing that it was just me, and you had been honest with me and so open since the start, and it all started clicking together. 

“I realized a few days ago that you were right about everything, about all of it. I don’t have to do this alone. Getting help from others doesn’t mean I’m weak. It means that others care enough about me to want to help. And that’s what I wasn’t understanding. I thought you wanted to hurt me, but when I saw that you were also indisputably hurt by me leaving, that whole view was shattered and I was left staring at these broken pieces trying to fit them all back together in a way that made sense. And I’m not like…over all of that. That stuff is very deeply engrained in me and it’s gonna take a long time to unlearn it. And honestly I don’t know if I _fully_ believe how much you say you love me, but I do believe that you love me, even just a little bit. But mostly, I trust you. I trust you to tell me the truth and I’ll do my best to believe you. That’s about all I can do right now, and I’m hoping it’s enough.” 

Tears are brimming at Louis’ eyes. He says through a watery voice, “Of course it’s enough, Zayn. I’m so proud of you. What you’ve done is so incredibly hard, and the progress you’ve made already is so good. I’m so proud of everything that you do and everything that you are. And yeah, I was really hurt by you leaving, especially when it felt so out of the blue to me, and these past three weeks have been absolute hell—”

“I’m sorry,” Zayn interrupts, curling tighter into Louis’ chest. 

“I know you are, love. I know that wasn’t your intention, and you didn’t understand what was going on or how I felt or anything. And I’m not saying ‘it’s okay,’ because, like, it isn’t, y’know? But I know that you’re sorry and I know you’re working really hard on making this work. I waited because I knew that this is something we could get through together, and I’m proud of you for coming back. You’re so strong, Zayn.” 

“Thank you,” he whispers back. 

The two of them lay on Louis’ bed, breathing in sync and holding each other tight. Then Zayn clears his throat softly. 

“Could you do something for me?” he asks almost timidly. 

“Anything,” Louis replies. 

“I just wanna hear you say you love me. I think hearing it a lot might help get it into my head better.” 

Louis breaks into a grin. “I can _definitely_ do that.” He suddenly flips Zayn onto his back and climbs on top of him. He plants a kiss onto Zayn’s cheek. “I love you.” Another kiss on the other cheek. “I love you.” Three kisses trailing down his neck to his collarbone. “I love you I love you I love you.” Kisses all down his chest and then all the way back up, each one punctuated by an I love you. Louis finally kisses Zayn’s lips, a deeper longer kiss than before. 

“I love you,” Louis says, hovering centimeters from Zayn’s mouth. 

Zayn smiles. “I’m starting to believe you.” 

Louis dives back in for another kiss. God, he’s so in love. And sometimes it hurts like hell, but if it means he gets to feel like _this_ , then he thinks it’s worth it.


End file.
